Too Close
by KneeDeepinInk
Summary: What started out as a deadly game of wits between Gil and one of his own, turns out to be a game of life and death that leaves the entire team at the breaking point. Epilogue is done! Finally, the story is complete!
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own CSI; I do not own the characters**

* * *

"I feel better already." Sara sighed, letting the small bite of chocolate covered ice cream slide down her throat. She closed her eyes, enjoying the pure bliss of whipped cream in her mouth. 

Gil Grissom stood a moment, watching her intently as she sat on the couch, wrapped in a quilt his mother had made years before. Her face was covered in scratches; the bruising along her jaw had deepened considerably, nearly matching the marks along her neck. As she lifted the spoonful of ice cream to her mouth, he noticed that her hands were shaking.

Sara opened her eyes and looked up at him, smiling slightly as she took another bite of the sundae he had made her. "How long do you think it'll be before I stop this?" She asked, holding up the spoon so he could see her trembling.

"Well…" He said slowly, "I am sure that as you gather your strength, it will go away." He bent and kissed her forehead softly before sitting next to her. "I'll bet that even by tomorrow, it will be better"

She sighed again, her eyes portraying a level of emotion that she refused to reveal, "I hope so." She took another bite of the ice cream. "This is soooo good, Gris. Amazing how good a bowl of ice cream can make you feel."

"That's pretty much the only thing you've eaten since we've been home," He reached out and began to gently stroke his fingers through her hair. "You should probably have something a little more solid."

"Oh, noooo.." She smiled. "Just give me ice cream." She carefully ate another mouthful, delighting in the flavor. "When I was a small girl, my mother would take me for ice cream whenever she and my dad had a fight. She always said that a good bowl of ice cream had the power to make everything bad go away." She glanced at him quickly. "She'd buy us both ice cream to make us feel better…it always worked" she shrugged slightly, "I guess it still does."

"My mother read poetry to me," He stated. "She said it calmed the soul."

"Your mother was a smart woman." She took another bite of the sundae, letting the flavors meld their way in her mouth.

They sat quietly, watching an old episode of the Twilight Zone. Sara was enamored with older horror flicks and science fiction and would generally become completely absorbed in them, jumping at scenes she'd seen time and time again. It was one of the things that he loved about her the most.

Gil continued playing with her hair absently, a habit he'd picked up as their relationship progressed. Sara loved the feeling it gave her; she felt soothed by the movement, and the simple message of love it sent wordlessly to her.

They had not talked about what had happened to her; no words had transpired about the terrifying ordeal. Sara had spent five full nights in the hospital, the first two being in ICU. When she hadn't responded to the rescue workers, had not opened her eyes as Gil knelt on the ground next to her, pleading her name, he had feared the worst.

She had been covered in a mixture of muddy sand and blood; her lungs had taken in sand and water as the rain pummeled the earth she laid on, weighing down the car that pinned her. She wasn't breathing when Gil had found her, falling to his knees in the mud, desperately grasping her hand, screaming her name.

Now as he sat next to her, running his fingers through her hair, he felt so many years older; his entire body felt weak, drained. He had nearly lost control when they found her; almost let his fear and rage dictate his actions. If it hadn't been for Catherine and Warrick, pulling him back, calming him down, he would have lost it completely.

He had always been able to control his emotions, handling every situation calmly and objectively; never letting his emotions interfere with his job. But, when Sara disappeared, he felt the pieces holding him together begin to crumble; his calm exterior ebbing away, like shed skin…and when he grabbed Natalie Davis to shake her out of her trance, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his composure much longer. Something snapped inside him when Sara was taken, and Gil Grissom knew he would never be the same.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine. I am just borrowing them

Catherine Willows groaned as she looked at the clock in the break room; 3 A.M. Shift was only halfway over. All she wanted was a warm bed and about 20 hours of sleep. _That _was her idea of priority. She poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down at the table, pouring over a crossword puzzle that Grissom had started over a week ago.

When Sara disappeared, they had all worked extra hours around the clock to find her. Since the time that she had been pulled from underneath that car, Catherine had been working doubles and even triples to fill in for not only Sara, but for Grissom as well. She was exhausted and irritable.

Sara was out for an extended period of time; Ecklie had given her full paid leave. No one at the lab expected her back for at least a month, but everyone knew that she'd be clawing the door to get back in within two weeks' time. She didn't know when Grissom would be back at work; no one really knew for sure. The only thing that Catherine knew for certain was that what happened to Sara had done something to him. She had never seen him lose control before, had never seen the raw emotion, the powerful rage that had consumed him. For the first time in the 20-years that she had known him, Gil Grissom had scared the shit out of her.

Catherine glanced up at the sound of footsteps and smiled wearily as Nick and Warrick came into the break room. They both looked beat as they headed for the coffee. "Hey" She greeted

"Catherine," Nick said, getting his coffee and sitting next to her at the table. "How's your case going?"

"Oh, you know…" she drawled, "Dead body, lots of blood, no one will admit to the crime. The usual."

Warrick chuckled as he sat on the opposite side of the table, "Try not to let your enthusiasm show so much, Cath."

Catherine glared at him. "Honestly, I don't know how the hell Sara ever did this." She shot out in exasperation. "I've barely done a double today and I feel like I am going to collapse into a withering pile of muck."

Warrick smiled at her analogy. "You're lookin' pretty good for a withering pile of muck."

She shot him a disdaining look. "I'll just be glad when at least Grissom gets back to work." She said, tossing the crossword puzzle to the center of the table.

"Sara was a workaholic," Nick stated. "She's the only person I have ever known who could pull off a triple, leave long enough for a shower and a change of clothes, and then come back and do it again." He shook his head. "And she never missed a single detail, even with no sleep…best damn solve rate in the state."

"Hell, in the country." Warrick chimed in. It was no secret that they admired Sara, what also was no secret was the way that the men in the lab adored her. She was their friend, their co-worker, and their confidant. Even Catherine found that despite their differences, in her darkest hours of need, it was Sara who was there offering quiet support and unyielding strength. No matter the depth of what Catherine was experiencing, Sara never broke their confidence, carrying Catherine's secrets as if they were her own. For those reasons, Catherine had come to think of Sara as a friend.

Nick and Warrick were silent, glancing at each other across the table. Nick looked down at his coffee, steeling a sidewise look at Catherine. "You think Grissom's okay?" He asked, voicing the very subject that was on everyone's mind.

Catherine sighed, pondering his question. "I don't know, Nick. Honestly…" She trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"All I know is I have never seen that man behave like he was the last few days," Warrick stated as he twirled his coffee cup around in his hands. "I seriously thought he was losing his mind. Grissom doesn't act that way…it was…freaky."

Nick nodded, "Well, this whole thing has been pretty traumatic. I mean, c'mon guys, it was Sara…and she nearly died…hell, she _did _die." He shook his head. "We were just lucky that she came back…"

"Now, there's the question," Warrick looked from Nick to Catherine, "Do you think _she'll_ be okay?"

Nick smiled. Sara was the one person he knew of who could bounce back from anything; she had a strength that was envied by just about everyone in the lab. "Sara?" He grinned. "Hell, nothing can keep that girl down. She'll be back to work even if she has beat Ecklie down with her crutches to get here."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine. I am just borrowing them

Gil opened his eyes slowly, the darkness in the room engulfing him in silence. He sat up suddenly as panic set in, the events of the last week sending his heart thumping madly against his chest. Sara.

Slowly, the panic began to ebb away as he realized where he was; where she was. He took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. Shit. He had to get it together before he lost his mind. He glanced at the clock next to the bed: 3:15 AM

Sara lay quietly next to him; the pain and sleeping pill combination the doctor had given her leaving her in a deep, motionless sleep. She had not moved a muscle since falling asleep, her right arm stretched out next to her head on the pillow, her left hand laying gracefully across her abdomen. Her face was turned slightly towards him and he found himself gazing at her; amazed at how much he loved her yet terrified of what he could become if he lost her.

Slowly, he lay back down close to her, feeling the warmth of her on his skin. He rolled to face her, reaching out to gently smooth her cheek with his hand, tracing small gentle lines along the scratches. Gil was not a man to show his emotions easily, and the feelings that Sara brought out in him had the power to bring him down at the knees and that knowledge scared him.

He let his hand slide down across her abdomen, reaching out to entwine his fingers with hers. He leaned in next to her and placed a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I love you so much, Sara." He whispered, even though he knew she could not hear him. "You have no idea how terrifying that is."

Laying his head down on the pillow, he gazed at her before closing his eyes, still holding lightly to her hand. The events of the last 6 days played heavily on his mind, the vision of her body as she was pinned under that car still vividly in his memory. He wished he could forget the image, just envision Sara as she was everyday: beautiful, smiling…alive. But somehow, his mind played back the reel of tape surrounding her ordeal over and over in his mind and he didn't think he could ever shake the images.

Sara's arm was barely visible from under the wreck of the car as Warrick skidded the Denali to a violent stop less than 20 feet away. Gil was out of the SUV and bolting towards her, screaming her name, before the SUV had even come to a stop. He fell to his knees before her, grabbing her hand. "SARA!!" He screamed, trying vainly to scoop away the muddy water that had pooled around her still body, encasing her.

"Sara…Sara…honey, please…" He pleaded. Her hand was cold, too cold. Gil knew that feeling, he knew what skin felt like when there was no life in it and Sara's hand…her arm…felt like death. "Sara…. God, Sara. No.…" He could feel a surge of panic rising up in his stomach, could feel the grip of terror tighten around his throat. "SARA…PLEEAASSE…" He continued his attempt to dislodge the mud surrounding her head, trying to push his way under the car enough to see her face.

Blood was everywhere, pooled in the mud and stuck to Sara's hair, making dark red globs of wet earth in her hair. "Sara...please…Sara," He was crying, the choke hold around his throat strangling him, making it hard to breathe. "Sara COME ON!!" He screamed, digging away the mud that had impeded her breathing, trying to keep up as more came washing in.

The lights from the Denali illuminated the car, casting shadows and light around the wreck. Gil reached in as far as he could, barely able to get his hand to the crook of her neck. He felt for a pulse and in an agonizing second realized that Sara was not breathing. "SHE'S NOT BREATHING!!" He screamed out towards Warrick and Catherine "Sara…Sara, baby...please…breathe, Sara…come on breathe…" He pleaded. "Sara…please…."

He felt someone grabbing him from behind and heard Brass's voice. "Gil…they have to move the car…" He said firmly, tugging on his vest.

But he wouldn't leave Sara…he couldn't leave her. He was terrified that if he let go of her, he wouldn't ever hold her again. "NO JIM! I'm not leaving her!!" He continued hanging on to Sara's hand, violently moving the bloody mud away from her face. "Sara…breathe, Sara…please don't die on me…. breathe, honey…BREATHE…oh, God, honey…please just breathe…"

Brass caught hold of Gil's vest, pulling him away from the wreckage. _"GIL! You have to let go of her! They need to move the car_!"

Suddenly, he exploded. The heat of his anger burning up his skin, the tingling of rage mixed with the agony of his sorrow and he began to panic. Sounds and images seemed to blur and Gil felt like he was being sucked down a tunnel, unable to stop the events unfolding in front of him.

He didn't realize that he had struck Brass until Warrick was behind him, pulling both of his arms back as he fought to keep him from striking again. Brass lay sprawled out in the mud, sitting up slowly and rubbing his jaw as blood slowly trickled down his chin.

Gil yanked away from Warrick violently, showing a strength that caught the younger man off guard and nearly knocked him to the ground. "Let go of me!" He raged, trying again to reach Sara. This time, it was Warrick who stopped him. Using all of the strength he had, Warrick pushed Grissom back, holding him firmly as he fought to get free.

"_GRISSOM!"_ He yelled, shoving him backwards. _"You have to calm down! You are NOT helping her like this, man! Just CALM. DOWN."_

Catherine ran up next to them, stepping in front of Gil. "Gil," She said desperately, "Please…. you have to calm down…for Sara. Gil?"

The rage in his eyes was something Catherine had never seen before and for a moment; she thought he would shove her out of the way as well, and for that brief moment she actually felt terrified. His eyes began to soften and the wild rage was replaced by heartbreaking grief, "Sara…" he whispered.

Warrick sensed the fight go out of him and released his hold, bending down to help Brass back up to his feet. The two men shared a knowing glance as Brass took a napkin from his pocket and wiped his chin; Gil Grissom had never shown any form of violence before, and Brass had been completely taken by surprise.

The rescue crew was busy hooking up the car to the hoist that would remove it from Sara, the paramedics were standing by, ready to pull her out as soon as the coast was clear.

"She's not breathing…" Gil said so quietly that Catherine almost didn't hear him. She looked at him, her eyes full of compassion and worry. "I didn't make it on time, Catherine…she's not breathing."

She reached out and took his hand. It was covered in a mixture of muddy sand and Sara's blood and Catherine could feel the tears welling up in her as they watched the crew begin to remove the car.

More headlights illuminated the scene and soon Nick and Greg were there, followed closely by Sofia. "Oh my God…" Greg breathed, observing the scene in front of him. "Is she…"

Catherine shook her head at him and he fell back against the front of the Denali, hanging his head low as he fought to keep his composure. Nick went to Catherine's side, looking at Gil and then at the scene in front of him. He could feel the deadly silence and fought the mist that clouded his eyes. They would have to process the scene, process Sara's blood. Sara was his best friend…and now he would have to process her murder.

Slowly, the car was lifted up and away and the paramedics dove into action.

"There's no pulse," one of them said, the sound echoing in Gil's ears.

"Brace her…there could be multiple internal injuries…"

"Let's get her rolled over, we need to clear her throat" Another said.

"Still no pulse…her lungs are full of water."

"Roll her on her side. Be careful of her back!"

"Shit…"

"Clear!" There was the sound of thumping, Sara's limp body jumped. "Still no pulse. Clear!" Another thump, Sara's body jumped again. "Nothing. Clear!" And then finally, "I have a heart beat…let's get her in the rig!"

Sara crashed twice on the way to the hospital. When they finally had her stabilized, she began vomiting blood and sand before crashing again. By the time the ambulance reached Desert Palms Hospital, Sara Sidle had died three times.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four (Note: I had to change the chapter. I didn't like the direction the story was going. Sorry)

I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine. I am just borrowing them

Gil spent the better part of the night sitting alone on the dark balcony, staring out over the lights of Las Vegas below. He had not slept at all while Sara was in the hospital, and since she had been home, had not slept well. Nightmares plagued his dreams; thoughts that she could get hurt again overwhelmed his weary mind. Gil understood that it was Sara's connection to him, the very fact that he loved her more than life itself, that he was willing to kill for her, to die for her, and that he would die without her, that had put Sara's life in jeopardy. If someone like Natalie Davis could elicit revenge against him by hurting Sara, what would stop the next person he wronged? And the next time, they may not be able to save her on time. Gil wasn't sure he wanted to risk a next time. He wondered if somehow, life apart from Sara would hurt less than a life without her.

Captain Jim Brass stared at the phone on his desk, willing his fingers to pick up the receiver and "…just dial the damn number." But something in him told him held him back. He hadn't said much to Gil since the night they found Sara, and honestly, his chin still hurt. When he had visited Sara in the hospital, she was still in intensive care, the breathing tube down her throat a ghastly reminder of how close she'd come to being one of the unlucky ones; not that the position she was in made her lucky, he thought. Gil had held a solid bedside vigil, sleeping in the chair next to her, reading her poetry and even working his crossword puzzles out loud in the hopes that she could hear even just a little bit.

When Brass had walked in the room, Gil eyed him coldly but nodded his greeting. For a minute, it took Brass all he had to enter the room. Seeing Sara that way was difficult, even for a seasoned cop like him. Her face was swollen around the breathing tube and her eyes were taped shut. She had a brace around her neck, holding her head still ('Yeah, as if she's moving around a lot' he remembered thinking) and the machine next to her making the steady wooshing sounds made sure that her lungs received air, even if she forgot to breathe.

"Man, Gil," He had said. "I am really sorry…" Gil had not looked at him, staring at Sara's bruised hand as he held it in his. "I uh…" Jim continued. "I brought her flowers." Gil nodded again. "I'll just…I'll leave them over here." Jim placed the flowers on the window seal, looking over at Gil. He walked towards Sara, brushing her bandaged arm lightly. "You get better soon for us, Kiddo." He said before heading towards the door.

"Hey, Jim." Gil called out quietly. Jim turned around to face him. "I'm sorry," he tilted his head in Jim's direction, "about that."

Jim grinned, touching his chin. "That?" He waved it off. "Don't worry about it. But I gotta tell ya Gil…you have one hell of a sucker punch."

Jim snapped his way out of the reverie and finally dialed Gil Grissom's number. "Grissom."

"Hey, it's Brass." Jim started quietly. "I, uh, we really need to get Sara's statement."

"No, Jim." Gil said firmly.

"C'mon man." Jim plead, "we can come over there if you want."

"What I want," Gil snapped, "is for you to leave her alone."

"I wish I could, Gil, really. But without Sara's statement…" he broke off before stating levely, "Look Gil. We don't think Natalie acted alone. There was someone else in the garage security footage; we couldn't make it out, but it definitely looked male." He paused again, giving his statement time to sink in. "This guy's still out there, still carrying a vendetta—"

"Okay." Gil said suddenly. "Okay..just, uh, just let me talk to her first."

"Sure, man…just let me know what time."

Gil hung the phone up; rubbing his hands down his face in tired frustration. 'Damn it', he muttered as he hung up the phone. He didn't know if Sara remembered any of the events of that night, all he knew was that somewhere along the line of her remembering, the reasons for what happened to her were bound to surface. Whether Sara was even remotely aware of Natalie's motive was entirely unknown, she had not mentioned it and neither had he. He wondered if she would somehow blame him, realizing that the only reason she had been hurt in the first place, was because of him? And, if she did find out, would that change her feelings for him?

He walked into the living room where Sara lay on the couch. Her back was against the armrest and she had her laptop balanced precariously on her cast as she checked her email. "Hey." He said a little more cheerfully than he actually felt.

She looked up at him carefully, the pain in her neck making the movement difficult. "Hey," She greeted back before glancing back at the computer screen. A huge smile broke out on her face as she giggled, "Oh, no he didn't…"

Gil cocked his head slightly, "Didn't what?"

"Nick sent me a flash card." She grinned. "You wont believe what it was." Seeing the puzzled look on his face, she laughed. "No…not that."

Deciding it was probably best if he didn't know, he sat carefully next to her. "Sara," When she looked at him, he continued, "Brass wants you to give a statement."

The happiness in her eyes melted away, replaced by something Gil couldn't read. "Today?" She asked

"He wants to come by with Warrick this afternoon."

"Warrick?"

"He's the lead CSI on your case now." He said carefully. "I have too much personal stock involved."

Sara sighed, closing her computer. As she reached to put it out of her way, she stopped suddenly, wincing in pain and squeezing her eyes shut. Her hand was on her left side, close to the ribcage.

"Are you okay?" He asked, concerned.

"Peachy," She gasped, near tears. After a few stabilizing breaths, she looked up at him, blinking harshly at the tears in her eyes. Grinning, she said "What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger."

Somehow, he didn't find that statement funny and gave her a scolding look, "I don't know about you, but I sure as hell don't feel any stronger." He snapped.

"Damn…" she said, "And I'm the one who was nearly crushed under a car…"

"Sara, you know this isn't easy for me either."

"I know that, Gil." She said, her eyes filled with an emotion he wished he could read.

"Somehow, I don't think you do." He replied, sadness in his voice as he stood up.

"Gil…" she started, sounding frustrated. "Look…I know this isn't easy for you. I know you are tired, you aren't sleeping at night." She bit her bottom lip, continuing. "I realize that catering to me is draining, I know it is putting a stress on you. Don't you think I don't notice that?"

He ran his fingers through his hair, not fully understanding why he felt so irritated with her; it wasn't like it was her fault. "Sara. I'm tired." He snapped simply, "It has been a very long week."

She pursed her lips together, fighting an emotion that almost looked like anger. "Fine." She replied, laying her head back against the armrest and closing her eyes.

He looked at her, taking in a slow breath. "Sara…honey…look," He said softly, kneeling down next to her and placing his hand on her cheek. "I really am sorry. I don't mean to snap at you. God knows you are the very last person I want to snap at." He rubbed the side of her face gently, his eyes softening. "I'm tired. I'm cranky. But that doesn't give me the right to take it out on you. I really am sorry."

She gazed at him and he could see the sparkle in her eyes when they caught his. "I know, Gris…" She smiled a little. "And it really is okay. If I said I didn't understand, I'd be a liar. So really, it's fine."

"Okay." He nodded.

"I'll talk to Brass." Sara said quietly. She didn't know if she even knew what had happened to her and what she did know, she didn't want to remember. If only they could all just let it go, just forget the whole ordeal; then she could put it away in the locked box where she kept all of her bad memories. Safely tucked away where they could never hurt her again.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine. I am just borrowing them

Brass and Warrick arrived at Gil Grissom's townhouse, pulling in next to Sara's car in the driveway. "This is weird, you know." Warrick said. "Sara and Grissom…"

"Try not to think about it too much," Brass winked. "You'll give yourself nightmares."

Once inside, Gil showed them to the living room, where Sara was sitting up on the couch, her casted leg propped by a pillow on the coffee table. "Hey, Kiddo." Brass said softly as he pulled a chair up across from her.

Warrick went around behind her, bending down to plant a soft kiss on her forehead. "How you feelin', Girl?" He asked, his green eyes tender.

"I have pain killers." She smiled wryly at him.

He smiled knowingly, the seriousness of his visit showing on his face. He glanced at Grissom, who had sat protectively next to her, holding her hand. "Sara," Warrick began, "You know we have to record this."

"I know the procedure," she said, her voice sounding hoarse and strained. "You don't have to explain it to me."

"Of course not." He cleared his throat, glancing from Sara down to his notes. She looked rough; rougher than he had expected. He'd been with her and Grissom at the hospital quite a bit; he knew how battered she was. But somehow…seeing her like this at home…he just wasn't prepared for this. She had her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, wisps of it falling against her bruised face. Her neck was a deep black purple and both arms were covered in bruises. Her left wrist was bandaged tightly, her fingers below the bandage swollen and slightly discolored. He noticed that she had tore off most of her fingernails trying to dig her way out from under that car, and her left leg was immobilized by the full-length cast put on after the surgery to repair her severely crushed limb. Every inch of her body was either covered in bruises, bandages, or a cast. Any skin left over was lined with scratches.

Sara had fought like the devil to get out from under that car and she had the battle wounds to prove it.

"Okay, Sara." Brass began, punching record on the machine. "Standard procedure. You ready?" When she nodded, he continued. "I need you to tell us everything you remember. Don't leave anything out."

She had just pulled off well over a double shift and she was beat. Gil had called her an hour before to tell her that he and Catherine would be late, not to wait up for him. She finished up her paperwork, depositing it on his desk before heading towards the lab to say goodnight to Hodges, but he wasn't there. Figuring he was either on lunch or asleep in his car again, she headed out to the garage.

She and Gil had the next night off, and they had plans to go to the lake. They hadn't had much time together over the last few weeks and it would be nice to have a breather after all the Miniature Killer stress, not to mention the Lady Heather crap. Sara couldn't stand the woman and she didn't really care what Gil thought; she was no friend of hers.

As she headed towards her car, she thought she saw Hodges sitting in his, but when she looked across at the car, it was empty. Her car sat across the way from his and if he was sleeping, she didn't feel like walking all the way over there just to wake him up. Let Gil do that when he came in; she'd love to see the look on his face for that one.

She opened the hatch on her car and put her kit in. "Sara." She jumped and spun around, barely catching a glimpse of the girl in front of her before she was struck from behind. She felt herself falling as if in slow motion and then agonizing pain shot through her back. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. As she hit the ground, she could make out shadows around her…voices echoed in her ear…slow stretched out voices…she felt dizzy…her back was ablaze with pain, but her body was numb. "Oh, God. I've been shot." Her voice played out in her head in slow motion, as if being played on a warped vinyl record. She felt movement, like floating…faces loomed above her, but she couldn't see…she felt a sudden jolt, her head hit something hard and then everything went black.

"When I woke up…I couldn't move" Sara recalled quietly. "I felt something…heavy…on my legs." She looked at Grissom, a look of puzzlement on her face. "I thought it was you…I remember…voices...a song?" She paused, thinking for a moment. "No, a poem…I don't know it…I can't remember."

At that, Brass and Gil exchanged looks; they both knew the poem she was speaking of. The one that Natalie chanted over and over in the interrogation room.

"I heard them drive away." Sara continued. "I couldn't feel my legs…but I remember my back hurt, really bad…I tried to pull myself out…but, whatever was on me made this creaking sound, and…I'm claustrophobic," She stated. "Did you know that?" Before anyone could answer, she continued. "I didn't know that…it was cold…." She was talking to no one in particular, speaking the memories as they came to her. "I screamed for someone…anyone…I screamed for you…" she looked at Gil, "it started raining…I…and there was water…I think I panicked…and…something creaked again…I couldn't breathe…"

Sara had stopped talking, staring down at her lap. The men waited quietly, expecting her to say more. "Sara…" Gil pressed, squeezing her hand gently. She sat quietly, face down, as if she did not hear him. Gil glanced at the other men, concern in his eyes. He looked back at Sara and it took him a moment to see the tear roll down her cheek, falling quietly into her lap. "Honey…" He said softly, "It's okay…"

"No…" She said shakily, "no…it's not okay…" and with that she began sobbing, lifting her trembling hand to her face. Gil pulled her to him as she sobbed, glancing at the others. "Why?" Sara choked. "I don't want to remember that! Why did they do this to me?" her voice was pleading as she buried her face in Gil's chest. "I don't understand…I don't even know her…I just want to forget it…please just let me forget…"

Brass reached out and turned the machine off. There was no way they were going to put her through anymore of this. He regretted coming here, regretting making her relive that night.

Warrick felt a well of emotions build inside of him. He had never, ever, seen Sara Sidle cry. As far as he had known, she was one of the toughest people he'd ever met, bouncing back from everything with a smile on her face, ready to take on another challenge. 'Hell,' he thought 'she was even smiling in the hospital.' He looked at Grissom and saw the mixture of guilt and concern on his face; Sara didn't know. She didn't know that Natalie used her for revenge against Grissom; Sara didn't know. "Grissom…" he said, nodding his head at him.

He held Sara, gently soothing her and kissing the top of her head softly. "I think we're done here." He told them, indicating that it was time for them to leave.

Warrick looked at Brass, shaking his head. "I don't ever want to do this again." He stated. "Next time you need a statement from Sara, forget it."

"You and me both," Brass said as he stood up, putting the recorder in his pocket. He opened his mouth to say something to Sara, but decided against it.

Warrick went over and knelt down in front of Sara, hoping to get her attention. He reached out and gently touched her bandaged hand. "Hey, Sara…" he said quietly, but she kept her face buried, refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry, Sara." He whispered, giving Grissom a nod as he stood up.

Brass squeezed Grissom's shoulder on the way out the door and they were gone, leaving behind them the shattered pieces that Sara had tried so hard to keep locked away.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine. I am only borrowing them

Nick Stokes was in the evidence room, pouring over the clothes Sara had worn when she was pulled out from under the car. Her vest had been soaked in blood and was covered in mud, her jeans had been cut off by the medics to get to her injured lower extremities.

Laying the items carefully out in front of him, Nick glanced up as Greg came into the room, a file open in front of him. "Nick," He said as he came in. "Didn't you say that Natalie Davis spent time in a few other foster homes before landing with Ernie Dell?"

"Yeah." Nick nodded, "She was in about 3 or 4."

Greg looked up at him, "Here in Vegas?"

Nick nodded, "Yeah."

"I just pulled this off the system," Greg handed him a slip of paper with a list of Natalie Davis's background. "Her father never said anything about living in California."

Suddenly, Nick realized where the younger CSI was going with this. "You think the person who helped Natalie grab Sara might be from one of these California foster homes?"

"I do." Greg bounced on his toes. "Wanna help me find out?"

"You bet I do." Nick pulled off his gloves, laying them carefully on the table as he followed Greg to the database room.

Warrick was in the laboratory with Catherine, pouring over DNA samples from another crime scene when his phone rang. "Warrick" He said into the receiver. He looked at Catherine, his face taking on a look of shock. "You sure, man?" He asked. Nodding he hung up the phone. "We got a problem." He said to Catherine, heading towards the door with her following close behind.

Greg was sitting at the computer database as Nick stood with his arms folded behind him when Warrick and Catherine entered the room. "Okay, what'a you got?" Warrick inquired as they came up next to Greg.

"Did you guys know Sara was a foster kid?" Greg asked them, looking at Warrick.

"What?" Warrick shot out.

"Check it out." Greg continued, pulling up a database. "Natalie Davis was living in California when her sister died; little detail her dad left out. It seems she went to a foster home there first, arriving on..." He looked at the screen. "August 24, 1989."

"So, how does that mean that Sara was a foster kid?" Catherine asked.

"Hold on, I'm getting there." Greg continued. "The foster home she went to was one of a Mr. and Mrs. Harold Tempsey. They had 2 children of their own, a son named Scott and a daughter named Bethany. Here, it lists all of the foster children who lived in their home during the time that Natalie lived there." He pulled up a new screen, pointing to a name among the others. "Sara M. Sidle, December 4, 1983 to September 12, 1989."

"There are more than one Sara Sidle, Greg." Catherine said, "You can't be sure that it was Sara."

"Oh, but I can." He commented, clicking another link, saying as it loaded. "The California Department of Children Services kept pictures of all the children in their system." Suddenly, a photo appeared on the screen. The girl in the snapshot appeared, in every respect, to be a young Sara. Next to the picture, it affirmed Greg's findings: Sara M. Sidle. Age 11. Original intake date: April 12, 1983. First placement date: December 4, 1983. Transfers: 0. Status: Closed.

Catherine caught her breath, her hand flying over her mouth. "Oh my God..." She said, looking at Warrick and then at Nick in surprise. "Why wouldn't Sara have mentioned this?"

"Would you want us to know, if it was you?" Nick countered.

"If Sara knew Natalie," Greg said as he brought up Natalie's information on the California site. "That could be motive."

"If she knew Natalie, why would she hide that information?" Warrick questioned.

They looked down at the picture of Natalie. Even as a child, her eyes were hollow and empty. Next to her picture it stated her information. Natalie L. Davis. Age: 28. Original Intake: June 2, 1989. First placement: August 24, 1989. Transfers: 1. Status: Nevada Department of Children Services. "It says in her file, that her father requested her transfer to the Nevada system when he moved over here." Greg said. "Funny, because he didn't want her and she grew up in the system here."

"It doesn't make sense," Catherine said. "Something is missing..."

Gil was sitting in his home office, trying to catch up on paperwork when his phone rang. Sighing, he picked it up. "Grissom."

"Gil, it's Warrick." He heard, "How's Sara?"

"Sedated." He snapped. "She became violently ill after you left, I had to give her a sedative to calm her down." He sounded tired. "She's sleeping."

"Oh, man..." Warrick sighed into the phone. "I hate this..."

"What do you need, Warrick?" Gil asked, sounding more than irritated.

"We have a problem." He stated. "Did you know Sara was in foster care?"

Gil froze, his heart skipping a beat. Of course he knew; he'd known for years. "What does this have to do with her case?" he asked

"It could mean everything..." Warrick paused. "We need you down here, Grissom."

Gil walked into the living room, where Sara lay quietly on the couch. "I can't leave Sara here alone."

"No problem." Warrick said. "Nick is practically foaming out the mouth to come and visit with her. He can stay there until you come home."

Gil paused. He didn't want to leave Sara here, didn't want her to wake up in the same state she was in when the sedative had knocked her out. He knew he had to go, and if Nick were here with her, he knew she'd be safe. "Okay." He said finally. "As soon as Nick gets here, I'll head in"

Gil hung up the phone, looking over at the sleeping form on the couch. Somehow, everything that Sara had tried to keep so secret, so private...was being thrown into the spotlight to be torn into shreds by the web that he himself had woven. If he had only listened to his logical side all those years ago and walked away from her, had continued to lock her out of his heart, she wouldn't be in this position today. He had tried, for years, to avoid the feelings that simmered inside him when she was around, had tried to avoid looking in her eyes, knowing that he couldn't hide the truth that every time she looked at him he went crazy, every time they touched he nearly lost his mind. He had given into his weakness, and his weakness was Sara.

He had absorbed her into his heart, into his mind, and into his soul and somehow, while trying to be so very careful not to show it, someone had picked up on the glow in his eyes when he looked at her. And because of his moment of weakness, Sara's life was being torn apart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine. I am just borrowing them.**

"What do you mean, you knew about this?" Conrad Ecklie snapped. "Aside from the fact that you've been physically involved with a subordinate, what the hell else have you been hiding, Gil?"

"What exactly are you implying, Conrad?" Gil bit back, feeling his anger level rising. He had walked into the lab to 100 questions from every direction, and he was nearing his breaking point.

"C'mon, Gil. You know what I'm saying," He started, "Look, I'm sorry she got hurt and I know that bothers a lot of people here. But, I gotta tell you...she's been a defiant problem since the day she walked into this lab." He was rolling his pen around through his fingers as he talked. "If you knew that Sidle was a result of the same system as Natalie, that they lived together," Ecklie tossed his pen on the desk, "then you were withholding information...the fact that you were getting lucky is no excuse for protecting a dysfunctional society reject."

Before he realized what he was doing, Gil was across the desk, grabbing Ecklie by the collar. "Let's get something _perfectly_ straight here, Conrad." He seethed, shaking him roughly. "If you _ever_ talk about Sara like that again, I'll see to it that you _never_ work in law enforcement again." He released the man with a shove, nearly knocking him to the ground before turning and storming out the door.

He marched down the hallway, feeling as though he were a ticking time bomb. His fists were clenched, his jaw set. He had fought the urge to lay Conrad Ecklie flat on the ground, and he was not happy that he hadn't just done it. The fact that Sara had known Natalie somehow, that they were connected, lived together and she had never said anything to him, had kept that from him, was bad enough without Ecklie putting his spin on the situation.

"Hey!" He heard Catherine calling him from behind. He continued his steady rhythm down the hallway, not stopping when she called. "Grissom!" She ran up to him, catching up just as he went into his office. She caught his elbow and turned him around. "What the hell..."

He glared at her a moment before taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Catherine," He said with a sigh. "Ecklie..."

She nodded in understanding. "No explanation needed." She smiled at him a little. "How you holding up?"

"Honestly?" He said. "I don't know what to think. I can't see why Sara wouldn't have told me about Natalie, especially if she knew it was important to the Miniature Killer cases."

"Well, maybe she didn't know." Catherine surmised. "Come with me..."

She led him into the layout room, where Greg, Warrick, and Sofia surrounded the table with all of the California Division of Children Services information laid out. Catherine picked up a sheet of paper, handing it to Grissom. "In the database, it stated that Sara lived with the Tempsey's for six years, without moving." She said, "It turns out that Sara was moved back and forth between several homes, including the Tempsey's, until she came to stay with them for her last year in foster care, which was in 1988 to 1989."

He scanned the paper he had given her. In Sara's 6 ½ years in the foster system, she had spent her time in nearly as many separate homes. _'You can't imagine what it's like to live with strangers' she had told him one time. 'You just get used to one family and they take you away to another one...its confusing.'_ He picked up the photo of Sara, taken when she was just 11 years old. The look of sorrow in her brown eyes reached out to him, and he found himself rubbing his thumb absently across her face. "She told me she moved a lot. She said it was confusing." He said. "What else have we got?"

"Well, I got to wondering why Sara would move in to the Tempsey's household and then be moved back out," Greg said, handing him the record of Sara's time with the family. "She lived there sporadically for about six months at a time over the six year period up to the last year." He said.

"I spoke with the foster father," Sofia said, glancing down at her notes. "Mr. Tempsey...he said that Sara had relationship issues and would lock herself in the closet pretty regularly. He said she was like a ghost, and refused to interact with anyone else in the household. She absorbed herself in school...it was her main focus..."

"Kind of like her work here," Greg commented in reference to Sara's extreme workaholic attitude.

Sofia folded her arms across her chest as she continued, "They tried to get her to open up through counseling, but she would hide in the corner and tell them she just wanted to forget."

Warrick looked at Grissom, a somber expression on his face as he recalled Sara's words from earlier that day. "It's easier to forget, then to hurt when you remember." He commented.

Sofia nodded slightly. "The case worker would take Sara out of the home and place her with another family, or back into the orphanage system." She continued. "When Sara was with them for the last year, she was busy with scholarship activities and kept to herself. Apparently, Natalie arrived in August of 1989 while Sara and her case worker were away at Harvard, dealing with her living arrangements." She glanced around the room. "He figures Sara wasn't there for even a week while Natalie lived there."

"She may not have even have noticed Natalie," Catherine reasoned. "She was 17, getting ready to go to Harvard. That would have been distracting enough..."

"But did Natalie notice Sara?" Greg chimed in

"That's just the thing," Sofia continued. "Mr. Tempsey said that Natalie was a problem from day one and never talked to anyone. He doesn't even know if she noticed Sara or not; she didn't seem to notice anyone...just the doll"

"Doll?" Gil cocked his head, a look of extreme concentration taking over his face.

"Mrs. Tempsey had a doll, a relatively old one." Sofia responded. "Natalie seemed obsessed with it..." she paused, looking around the room at them. "When Sara went to Harvard, Mrs. Tempsey gave her the doll...as a good luck token," She looked down momentarily at her notes. "Mr. Tempsey said that of all the foster children they had taken in, his wife was particularly fond of Sara..." They were all silent, waiting for her to continue. "Natalie went berserk when she found out the doll was gone, tried to push one of the other kids down the stairs...they sent her back after that."

The shock in the room hung like a heavy fog, blanketing them all in consternation. "Sara has never mentioned a doll..." Gil thought out loud.

"Well, that's because she doesn't have it," Sofia told him. "Mrs. Tempsey passed away two years ago, in 2005. Sara went to the service and brought the doll back...said it had carried her through some really bad times, and she figured that he needed it more than her."

Gil thought about Sara's leave of absence in 2005; she had been through some pretty rough events, and he had not treated her very well then. She had never spoken about where she had been; just that she had to go 'home' for awhile. He had never understood that, and now thinking that she had had to go through that alone drove a little twinge in his heart. Suddenly, so many things began to make sense. Maybe Natalie's actions against Sara weren't due to an obsession with him...maybe they were due to some hidden jealousy brought out in her when she realized who Sara was...maybe...

"If Natalie were obsessed with this doll," Warrick began. "Why would she have killed all of those other people? I mean, why not just go after Sara to begin with? Why wait until the end?"

"Maybe it was a game." They all turned around, surprised by David Hodges as he stood in the door. He gave them a look, settling his eyes on Grissom. "I've thought a lot about this...Do you really think that a sicko like Natalie Davis would target someone like Sara without a reason?" He asked with a scoff. "I think she was obsessed with the crime, with laying out the puzzle pieces, fitting together the jigsaw puzzle that was Gil Grissom...maybe she was looking for a final fit to the puzzle, figuring you were catching on to her strategy. Maybe she was looking for a way to change her strategy, and then she saw you look at Sara..." He shrugged. "Maybe she was playing a game with you, Boss...seeing if you could put the pieces together, call her next move...win the game, solve the puzzle." He leaned in the door frame, eyeing Gil steadily. "You were winning the game and she was looking for her trump card, and you handed her Sara..." He shrugged, smiling ever so slightly. "The fact that Sara just happened to be the very person who took something important to Natalie away from her only added a little more excitement to the game." He stood up straight, looking down momentarily. "I..uh...just thought I'd give you all my take on it." With that he turned and walked away, leaving them all in stunned silence.

Checkmate.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine. I am just borrowing them.**

_She sat at her table, surrounded by glue guns and little dolls and shelves full of model pieces. This next one was going to be better; perfect. The one almost got all messed up; she had had to go back and fix the model when the old lady fell through the window. Good thing she knew it had happened, or else it would have messed up the game. _

_The rock star...that was interesting. What a fun model to make, all the blood made it interesting. She had wandered through after the job was done, delicately memorizing the scene. Oh, she'd been there before, of course. She cleaned their house for them, that baby always cried. Nothing like the doll at all; noisy little thing. Her friend said she could use the blood..._

_The best part of the game was that she got to pick the pieces; set up the model to match the scene. Then go back and match the job when it was done. Playing the game with Dr. Grissom was fun; she set the pieces and he tried to match her, she always managed to outsmart him. She had never been smarter than anyone; she was smarter than him. The first time she saw him was on the news, talking about cases, about solving things, about crimes and blood and violence. It was fascinating. _

_She decided that she would start this game with him, just to see if he could figure it out, if he could solve the mystery. She knew that he liked to solve the crimes, to find the bad guy, to put them in jail. But with her game, he couldn't find the bad guy, he couldn't solve the case and that is why she loved it so much. She would watch him at the crime scenes, watch his face as he considered her pieces, see how he furrowed his brow when he tried to concentrate. She loved that she kept him interested, kept him confused. Always two steps ahead of him; he was busy trying to solve her model, while she was already two ahead of him. _

_But then it happened. He started getting closer, he started to figure things out. Her friend told her that he knew her secrets, he was moving the pieces, he was catching up with her. She had to do something, she had to find something...something that would really catch him off guard, something he wouldn't expect. She had tried to baffle him with bleach, make that what tied it all together. After all, her dad had used bleach to clean up her mess...it would seem so obvious..._

_And then he took Ernie...he made Ernie talk to him, he thought Ernie was playing the game. They made Ernie scared...he wanted to protect Natalie, he didn't want her to be hurt...he didn't want her to play the game anymore, he told her he would protect her...and then he died. And it was all HIS fault...it was a game...and he took Ernie...she had to do something...she had to find something that would make him hurt like she did...but she didn't know what..._

_She saw her...saw the way he looked at her, the way that he touched her...her friend told her there was something, there was someone...all she had to do was look, to watch. So she did. She watched when they went to the movies, watched him hold her hand, kiss her cheek, play with her hair...she watched them at one of her game pieces, heads bent together, trying to win her game. _

_She watched them process the car; not a part of her game, but she needed to observe him, to plan the next game piece to lay out for him. She watched as he touched her, watched as he looked at her, saw the look in his eyes...and then she turned and Natalie saw her face...it was HER_

_They had always talked about her. HERHERHER...she was so smart, so talented, so perfect...it was always about her...and then they gave it to her...gave her the doll...and she took it away...and now she was here, trying to take away Natalie's puzzle...her game...she wouldn't let it happen. COULDN'T let it happen..._

_She ran all the way to her friend's house...she had her next game piece. _

As Gil opened the door to his townhouse after returning from the lab, it was nearly 1:00 AM in the morning; the house smelled like popcorn and pizza. Walking into the living room, he saw that Nick had pulled out the sofa bed...and both he and Sara were sound asleep on top of it. The TV was on, playing over the credits for some movie that they must have been watching. Nick opened his eyes, seeing his boss standing over him. "Oh, hey Grissom." He said sleepily, stretching as he sat up. "How was the lab?"

Deciding not to answer, Gil looked around at the pizza boxes strewn around the living room. "How'd you get her to eat pizza?" He asked.

"Are you kidding?" Nick said as he stood up, grabbing the empty boxes and heading for the kitchen. "Sara's a sucker for a good cheese and pineapple pizza...I'm surprised you don't know that?"

"I did know that." He said, almost defensively. "What I want to know is how you managed to get her to eat it. I can't seem to get her to eat anything besides ice cream."

Nick smiled at him as he put the boxes in the trash. "I think that sometimes, a best friend is a little more persuasive than a...uh...well..." he stammered a minute, motioning with a hand towards Grissom.

"Hmm..." Grissom pondered for a moment as Nick put a few dishes into the dishwasher. "How'd she do?"

"Oh, great..." Nick grinned. "She was a little cranky when she woke up from her coma...something about drooling on her pillow..." He gave Gil a wink. "But, she lightened up a little when I put in '_Borat'..._You know, something about fat naked men running through a hotel...just seems to make her smile."

Gil gave him a strange look before saying, "Well, thank you...really..."

"Hey, no problem man." Nick went into the living room, grabbing the DVD out of the player and slipping it back into the case. "You know I love Sara...she's the best buddy a guy could have." Seeing the brief cloud over Grissom's face, he added. "Sara's the closest thing to a sister I've ever had...she's kind'a fun to hang out with...well..." He looked over at her on the couch. "especially when she's not all broken."

Grissom thanked him again as he headed out the door. Turning to look at Sara, he decided that Nick was very smart to think of the sofa couch; he couldn't figure out why he hadn't thought of it earlier. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and change into a pair of boxers to sleep in before coming back out to lie down next to her. "Nick, I told you to quit jumping up and down on the couch," She murmured. "Gris will kill--" she opened her eyes, seeing him looking at her. Her face was confused for a second before she smiled at him. "Hey..." she greeted.

He leaned over and kissed her softly, resting his forehead against hers. "Hey..." He kissed her again. "How are you doing?"

"I am great..." she said. "Pizza, movies, popcorn, pain killers...and now you...I don't know how I got so lucky."

He stared at her, thinking of the events of the day. He didn't know how she could push everything aside so quickly and move on to the next event in her life. It amazed him, but it also scared him a little. Picking up the remote, he switched the TV off, rolling onto his side to drape his arm around her. "I know I don't tell you enough," He whispered. "But, I love you Sara."

She was quiet for a moment before replying groggily, "I love you, too, Gil..." after a few minutes, he heard her breathing steadily, sound asleep.

He lay there for what seemed like eternity, playing over the day's events in his head. Sara had screamed for him...he almost didn't make it on time...

_'You handed her Sara...'_

Sighing, he threw his covers back and climbed out of bed, careful not to awaken Sara. He went into the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboard above the refrigerator, pulling down a bottle. He poured himself a shot of scotch and went out to the balcony, watching the lights of Vegas for what seemed like the hundredth time. He wondered if he should tell her, tell her what he knew...if he should ask her about Natalie, if she remembered the little girl with the hollow eyes from the foster home...he wondered what she would say, how she would react if she knew that it was him who had caused her all of this pain. Maybe he, like everything else that had hurt her, would be shoved aside...forgotten.

For the first time in over six years, Gil Grissom felt like getting drunk.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine. I am just borrowing them.**

The ringing of a phone brought Nick out of a deep slumber. After a few clumsy attempts, he managed to reach his arm out and knock his cell phone to the floor. "Shit..." He muttered, rolling over the edge of the bed to pick up the vibrating annoyance. "Stokes..." He mumbled into the receiver.

"Nick, where the hell did you put the evidence from the Sidle case?" It was Ecklie.

"Uh..." Nick rubbed a hand down his face, trying to wake up. "It's in the evidence room."

"Well, I don't know what room you're dreaming up," Ecklie barked. "But there is nothing for this case in the evidence room."

"What are you talking about, Ecklie?" Nick wondered, sitting up. "I secured the items myself."

"I'm not so sure you did, Stokes." Ecklie snapped. "Somehow, the entire physical evidence file is missing. I think you better get in here and figure out where it went." With that he hung up, leaving Nick sitting in silence, staring at his phone. _'No way...' _He thought, jumping out of bed and grabbing his jeans. _'No fucking way.'_

* * *

Since the day that Sara Sidle had first walked into the Las Vegas Crime Lab, Nick had felt a bond with her. Not in a physical way, of course; although he didn't think she was a bad looking lady. But a bond that only the very closest of friends can share, a brother and a sister, two peas in a pod. They would spend hours laughing over a beer, watching old Twilight Zones until four in the morning, or just catching a rock concert at the Mirage. To Nick, Sara was his absolute best friend; she was, in every aspect besides the genetic one, his sister. He loved her, no doubt about it.

When she had become romantically involved with Grissom, he knew. He had ragged her about it for weeks, berating down on her a continuous stream of taunting until she threatened to beat the shit out of him. He, of course, never mentioned a word of his knowledge to anyone; not even Grissom. When she and Grissom shared their 'secret' looks, he had only smiled to himself, making a mental note to harass her about it later. When Sara was abducted and Grissom had inadvertently portrayed his feelings, Nick had hung his head, pretending not to know.

While Sara was in the hospital, Nick had sat next to Grissom, holding back his tears. "She's my best friend, you know." He had said to Grissom. "She's one of a kind."

Grissom said nothing, holding onto Sara's hand. Nick had wanted to tell him all the things he had wanted to say since he and Sara started their relationship. Things like: _'If I find out you're just using her for a ride, you'll be sorry' _or _'If you ever hurt her, I'll break your arm' _or _'I swear to God, Grissom, you make her cry and it'll be the last thing you do.' _Things a brother would say to his little sister's boyfriend. But, for some reason, all he could think as he sat there next to his boss in Sara's hospital room was that without even trying, Grissom had already hurt her so much.

* * *

He rushed into the evidence room, unlocking the box that contained all of Sara's physical evidence; it was empty. All of her clothes, her shoes, the swabs from the scene, the scrapings from the car...gone. Nick looked around the room, it had to be there somewhere.

He charged out of the room and down the hallway, checking the lay out room, the data room, even the locker room. Finally, he hurried into Ecklie's office. "The evidence was in there, Ecklie." He said quickly, trying to catch his breath. "I put it in there last night before I went over to Sara's."

Ecklie raised an eyebrow at him. "Sara's?" He asked. "I thought you'd gone to Grissom's?"

"What the hell difference does it make?!" Nick yelled. "The evidence is gone...who the hell took it?"

"That's what I want you to tell me, Stokes." Ecklie stated. "You were the one who handled it."

"I'm telling you...I put it back in the box. There's no way I'd leave Sara's stuff out. There's no way I'd leave any evidence out."

"And I'm telling you..." Ecklie said as he stood up and came over to Nick in the doorway. "You had better figure out damn quick where it went." He went past him and disappeared down the hallway.

* * *

David Hodges opened the trunk and took out the case of bleach. He carefully laid each item out on the hot cement with a gloved hand, careful not to handle them too long. He opened the first container of bleach and poured it all over the assembled items, watching as the liquid scattered up and all over the cement around him. He had on a rain suit, something particularly too hot for the old abandoned Nevada runway, but he couldn't take the chance and go back to the lab smelling like bleach.

When one bottle was empty, he turned the items over and emptied another bottle of bleach. He was thorough and dedicated to his task, making sure that every fiber, ever cell on each item was completely inundated with the cleansing chlorine. Yep, there were definitely bonuses to having a criminology degree, he thought to himself.

Once his task was completed, he put all of the empty bleach containers back into the case, placed into the trunk of the car. He picked up all of the items, carefully depositing them into a large garbage bag he had grabbed from the janitorial cart at the lab; no sense using his own garbage bags. Noooo...they could trace that back to him. These ones? Hell, anyone at the lab could have used one of these. He smiled at his sharpness. _'Let them figure this one out'_ He thought as he put the bag back in his car and slamming the trunk. He took off the rain suit and threw it into the large hole he had dug the day before, covering it up well enough so that no one would ever see there had even been a hole there in the first place.

It took him over an hour to get back into Vegas, and another 30 minutes to arrive to his first destination. Getting out of the car, he was diligent in assuring that no one saw him as he took the large garbage bag full of destroyed evidence and deposited it into the trash receptacle behind the small apartment building, double checking the number on the bin before he left. In another 15 minutes, he pulled the little hybrid car into its previous parking space, killing the ignition and carefully opening the door. It was still early, too early for anyone in the area to be up and about, so he was not too concerned about being spotted.

Once out of the car, he quickly walked the 10 blocks to his final destination, removing his gloves, his protective sleeve covers, and the slip on feet protectors as he went. Arriving at his own car, he shimmied his way out of the outer layer of clothing he had on; they were a little snug, after all Greg was a little smaller than him. He put all of these into a garbage bag in his back seat, climbing in front before starting his car and pulling out of the alley. One good thing about Vegas is that no one really notices you coming and going on the strip, usually because there are so many people that no one really sees anyone else. He would be sure and get the bag in the backseat to the large Vegas dump before he went into shift that night.

Yep. Gil Grissom thought he had everything figured out; thought that he had won this one, outsmarted the game creator. Little did he know, that the creator of this game was one of his very own, and that he was still playing it.

_'Your move'_ David smiled as he drove back to his apartment.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine. **

Sara opened her eyes as the sun filtered in through the living room window, casting lines across the room and laying wavy beams along the sofa bed. She still felt a little groggy from the medication-induced slumber, and she could feel the dull ache beginning to radiate throughout her body; something she was becoming quite accustomed to since returning from the hospital. Yawning, she turned her head to look towards Gil, but he was not there next to her. Closing her eyes momentarily, she decided she needed to get herself up and moving around on her own. Gil was generally insistent on doing everything for her and while Sara thought that was a sweet gesture, she knew that if she did not begin her own self-therapy, she might lose any physical strength she had left.

She carefully reached over and grabbed the wheelchair that she had been allotted by the pharmacy equipment center and pulled it towards the sofa couch, making sure to lock the wheels in place. Even though she loathed the thing, she knew that it was a necessary, if not annoying, accessory. She managed to wiggle her way to a slanted position before pulling herself over to the edge of the couch and into the chair, gritting her teeth as her body protested the move. _'Get used to it' _She told herself. _'I'm not going to lay around here forever.' _Her broken left wrist throbbed with the effort, but she managed to back the wheelchair away from the couch and make her determined way around it. Feeling valiant, she wished Nick were there to see her accomplishment; they had spent over an hour the previous evening practicing this very task before he made her roll around the clever obstacle course he'd put up throughout the townhouse for her. She still hadn't told Gil about the lamp she'd broke; she thought she'd save that one for later.

The house seemed eerily quiet for 8:00 AM; Gil was usually up and had breakfast prepared by then, although Sara rarely ate any of it. She thought about heading towards the balcony to see if he spent another evening out there, but the urge to empty her bladder took over and she decided against it. After all, it was a little humiliating having help going to the bathroom in the first place, but having to have Gil help was even worse.

Once in the bathroom, she decided to make use of the extendable showerhead Nick had installed for her the previous evening. _'Look,' _He had said as he did the installation. _'You know I love you, Sara…but if you don't have a shower soon, there's no way in hell your gonna roll that stinky body of yours anywhere near this man's nose.'_ Sara had laughed at him, subconsciously smelling her extremities. The main thing Sara had loved most about her best friend was his ability to make her laugh, no matter the situation. Of all the people that Sara knew, Nick was the one who understood her desire to just forget about the things that hurt the most. She knew that it was because, like her, Nick had suffered a traumatic experience relating to their line of work that he had wanted to just forget.

Forty-five minutes later, Sara had managed the incredibly slow task of showering and had changed out of the sweats she'd been wearing into a pair of Gil's boxers (since they fit with ease over the large cast on her leg) and a tank top. Brushing her hair with shaking hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. _'Damn, Sidle...'_ She said to her reflection. _'You look like a cheap Halloween costume.' _She sat there and stared at herself, overcome by a sudden rush of anxiety.

"_I'm sure that Grissom is doing a lot of this out of guilt" Hodges had said as he visited her in the hospital last week. Seeing the look on Sara's face, he went on. "Well, you know he is responsible for what happened..." _

_Sara had only stared at him, the morphine drip the doctors had her on made her hallucinate at times; was this another hallucination? _

"_If it wasn't for him, you would have never gotten hurt," Hodges had told her, rubbing a hand on her cheek. Sara could feel herself slipping into the world of morphine-bliss, his words sounding deep and hallow, far away. "He wasn't supposed to involve you...this was never meant for you, Sara..." why wouldn't he go away? What was he saying? Sara thought she was dreaming; it was only a dream..._

"_But..." He had leaned close to her ear, rubbing her hair as he spoke, "once you start playing the game, you have to finish it...I guess Grissom decided that you were his greatest sacrifice...I'm sorry he did this to you..." Sara had felt herself drifting off into nowhere...falling down a dark hole...drifting away. _

Sara shook her head, haunted by the memory...but was it a memory? _'No'_ She told herself. _'Just another one of those stupid hallucinations...like the rabbits.'_ She scoffed at herself, remembering the rabbits in her hospital room, smoking pot and listening to the Beatles. Just another hallucination.

She managed to pick her dirty laundry off the floor and deposit in the hamper before leaving the room, making her way into the bedroom to look for Gil. Finding the room empty, she made her way slowly into his office and stopped abruptly, her heart skipping a beat as she felt the panic rise in her cheeks. Gil was on the floor, sprawled out on his side. Papers cluttered the ground around him, his computer lay on the floor near his feet where it had been knocked off the desk and his books were thrown around the room, violently shoved to the floor by what looked like a moment of rage.

Panicking, Sara threw herself out of the chair, the bolt of excruciating pain that reverberated through her body only intensifying her fear. She scattered toward him, reaching out to lift his face and then she stopped, seeing the drained bottle of Scotch lying near his outstretched arm and smelling the strong stench of alcohol. _'Oh, Shit…'_ She thought as her heart rate returned to normal. She lifted his head gently onto her bare leg, stroking his hair as she looked down at him. "Gris?" She said softly. He didn't move and so she shook his head slightly. "Gil?"

He started moaning, pushing her hand away. "If you touch me again I'll break your arm…" He mumbled. Sara froze, staring down at him with wide eyes. She didn't know what to do and was about to drop his head back onto the floor when his eyes opened. It seemed to take him a moment to adjust his vision and focus on her face. His eyes grew nearly as wide as hers as he groaned. "Oh, God…Sara…" Trying to sit up, his face took on a look of intense discomfort as he laid it back down in her lap.

"Are you still going to break my arm?" She asked him tentatively as she held her hand in the same frozen position.

He opened his eyes again and looked up at her. "What?" He asked groggily.

"My arm." She repeated. "You said you'd break my arm…"

"Oh, Sara…" He groaned again. "I think I was dreaming…" He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"I think you were drunk." She said simply, resuming her gentle stroking of his hair. "You smell like a two-cent hooker."

Silence. After a few minutes, he opened one eye to peer at her. "Did I really say I'd break your arm?"

She nodded at him and after a few more minutes, he lifted his head slightly and glanced around the room, groaning with obvious discomfort at the scene before him. Sara followed his gaze around the room; several small items were broken and she wasn't sure his computer would recover. "Did you do all this?" She asked quietly.

He said nothing, dropping his head back down to lay it on her lap. His eyes closed and he lay there quietly as Sara continued to smooth his hair, running her hand down his check in a soothing motion. She had only seen Gil drunk on one occasion, and that was a direct result of drinking too much of Greg's eggnog at a Christmas party several years before. She had laughed at him then; however, Sara did not find this event amusing at all.

After what seemed like a very long time, Gil finally broke the silence, speaking so softly that Sara barely heard him. "I don't think I can do this, Sara…" he whispered, his eyes still closed.

She glanced around the room quickly, looking back down at him. "Can't do what, Sweetheart?" She asked softly. When he didn't respond to her question, Sara repeated it again, "Gil…what can't you do?"

He looked up at her, his face clouded with emotion. His eyes filled with tears as he gazed up at her, reaching a hand up to rub it delicately along her bruised chin, "I can't hurt you anymore, Honey..." he said, swallowing hard at his emotions. "I just don't want to do it anymore..."

With that he slowly sat up, kissing her softly. "I love you...more than you can ever imagine," He said tenderly. "But I just don't think I can do this..." He rose to his feet and walked unsteadily out the door, leaving Sara alone in a room full of shattered pieces.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine. (NOTE: Song quote from _"Give me Novacaine" _by Greenday)**

When Gil left, Sara crumbled. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, didn't know where to turn or even how to get there. It wasn't like she could just go climb in her car and drive away; so she just sat on the floor, crying silently as the tears rolled down her cheeks. After quite some time, she took some steadying breaths to calm herself, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Sara hated crying and lately it seemed as though, besides sleep, that is all she had done.

Her chest hurt, probably worse than it had ever hurt since first waking up in the hospital. She knew it was from her crying fit, from her lack of painkillers that morning, but the steady ache made her angry; she was tired of the whole ordeal. Unlike Gil, she could not just get up and walk away from the situation. She looked around at the office again; deciding that the best thing she could do was leave the mess to him to deal with since she really couldn't make it around the room to do anything anyway.

Slowly and incredibly painfully, she inched her way back to the foreboding wheelchair and then sat and glared at the thing. After deciding that eliciting her revenge by dismantling it would prove her no good use, she locked the wheels in place and proceeded to climb up on it instead. It took her 5 good attempts to pull her body into it, her arms shaking at the effort as each time she fell back down onto the floor with an alarming jolt of pain. She would curse and squeeze her eyes shut each time, fighting back the tears that just kept wanting out. _'If I had a sharp razor blade' _She angrily told the cast immobilizing her left leg, _'You'd be toast.' _Her leg throbbed, and she could feel the steady thump, thump, thump of her heartbeat as it coursed through her veins, carrying with it short bursts of pain that were beginning to irritate her. Once in the chair, she sat for a few minutes, trying to catch her breath and stop herself from shaking; God, her chest hurt.

Several missed attempts later, she left the room and made her way towards the kitchen. Without realizing it, she was crying again, more from pain than anything else. Every inch of her body hurt and she felt as though dying under that car would have been so much better than this; at least then she wouldn't feel anything.

Deciding that crying again was only making it worse, she found her medication sitting next to the sink where Nick had left it the previous evening. She grabbed the painkillers and decided to down double the dose, wanting to drown out the searing pain in her body and the thoughts of Gil in her head. Swallowing the pills, she stared at the bottle of sleeping pills next to them; if she were sleeping, it wouldn't hurt. If she was floating along in the darkness, she wouldn't remember what he had said, wouldn't even think about any of it. She grabbed the bottle and took two of the pills, letting them slide down her throat before making her way into the bedroom.

She didn't bother to pull the covers down on the bed before moving herself into it, the stabbing pain in her chest making her double over, taking her breath away. For a few frightening moments, Sara couldn't breathe and she felt an all too familiar panic began to take control. Slowly, she was able to regain herself and lay back on the pillows, reaching over to turn on the radio. She lay there listening to the words playing on the radio as the pills began to take affect and slipped into comfortable darkness:

_"Out of body and out of mind  
Kiss the demons out of my dreams  
I get the funny feeling, that's alright  
Jimmy says it's better than here,  
I'll tell you why_

Drain the pressure from the swelling,  
The sensations overwhelming,  
Give me a long kiss goodnight and everything will be alright,  
Tell me that I won't feel a thing,  
So give me Novacaine"

* * *

Catherine skidded her Tahoe to a stop in front of the lab, jumping out the door as she saw Nick rushing towards her. Today was her day off, but Nick's frantic phone call that afternoon had sent her rushing into the lab without hardly a word to Lindsey; she would have to make up for that later. 

Nick caught her mid-stride, turning to quickly pace along side her as they headed for the elevators. "I don't know what happened, Cath." He was saying, talking so fast that she had to concentrate to catch all of his words. "When I left the lab yesterday, I put everything back in the evidence vault; I didn't leave anything out. But, it's not here, Catherine, none of it and I've looked everywhere."

She held her hand up, signaling that she needed a minute to process as he pushed the UP button on the elevator. "You did lock it, right?" She asked, already knowing his answer.

"Of course," He said, exasperated. "There is no way I would leave evidence compromised; especially Sara's…"

The doors opened and they stepped inside, Nick leaning against the wall of the elevator as it began to climb. "Was there any other evidence missing?" Catherine asked.

Nick shook his head, "No…" He threw his hands up in a fit of frustration. "That's the thing; only Sara's stuff is gone. No signs of forced entry, no sign that it was jimmied….nothing."

"Someone must have moved it." Catherine said as the elevator doors opened and they stepped out. "That's the only logical explanation, Nick." She saw him before she had the chance to change directions, storming towards her with a thick file in his hand. Ecklie. "Damn…" she muttered as Ecklie stopped in front of her.

"I don't know what's going on in this lab, Willows." He said. "But obviously there is a serious lack of supervisory intervention."

"You should know…." She muttered under her breath.

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that." Ecklie said, slapping the file into her hand. "Besides, You need to head up to Lincoln County and get Grissom." He snapped as he began to walk away.

Catherine looked down at the file, confused. "Why is he in Lincoln County?" She called.

Ecklie turned around and smirked at her. "He wrecked a company car, drove off the road into a tree." He barked, looking at the two of them and rolling his eyes at the alarm on their faces. "He's fine." He stated, continuing, "Although he wont be by the time the department gets done with him…he's been arrested for a DUI."

Catherine looked at Nick, her eyes squinting slightly in shock. Gil? DUI? "Gil doesn't even drink..." She said to Nick. "Does he?"

"I don't know..." Nick said as they turned around and went back to the elevator. "But if Grissom's in jail up in Lincoln County, where the hell is Sara?"

(Authors Note: Short, I know..I'll add more)


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine.**

**(NOTE: More angst to come in this and maybe next chapter. There is a plan for everything, and it'll get better after that. Let me know if it is too excessive)**

It took Catherine less than two hours to get to Pioche and locate the courthouse that also held the small jail. She had called Lindsey on the way up, apologizing for missing their movie date; her daughter had hung up on her. Catherine couldn't blame her, she hadn't been the most present mother in her time at the crime lab and Lindsey had a keen way of making sure she never forgot it.

Walking through the doors into the main corridor, she spotted Gil sitting forlornly, elbows on his knees as he stared down at the floor. She walked over to where he was and he glanced up at her quickly with a sigh, remaining quiet.

"So..." she started, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Where do I sign you out at?"

Gil didn't respond, continuing to concentrate on the floor with his full attention. Catherine sighed frustratingly, heading into the small cubicle where the receptionist sat. The girl looked up at her, smiling faintly as Catherine showed her badge. "I...uh..." Catherine started, glancing over her shoulder at the hunched figure in the hallway. "I need to sign for my friend out there."

Nodding in what appeared to be sympathy, the girl grabbed a clipboard and pushed it toward her. "He's already paid his fine," She said. "He'll need to arrange his sentencing arraignment with his supervisor..." she looked up at Catherine. "Are you his supervisor?"

"Uh...nooo..." Catherine said slowly, glancing again at Gil. "Is he...will he have to serve time for this?"

"I'm not sure, Ma'am." She looked through a file, furrowing her eyebrows for a moment. "It looks like here that he's never had any previous offenses, never had an arrest...I can't tell you for sure, but he'll probably be stuck on probation or something."

"Great," Catherine said as she signed the paper for Gil's release and pushed it back to the receptionist, who handed Catherine Gil's wallet containing his CSI badge "Thanks"

She left the small room and stood in front of him again. "Ready?" She asked as he fastidiously studied the tile layout on the floor. After he didn't look up or attempt to move, she started to become irritated. "Gil, for God's Sake..." She scolded. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but I am not going to stand here all day while you memorize the floor design."

He sighed, pushing himself up to stand before her. She held out his wallet and he took it almost reluctantly, turning to follow her out of the building.

They drove in silence for the first 15 minutes, Gil having closed his eyes as soon as Catherine had started the engine. She stole a few sideways glances at him, noting the slight cut above his eye. Finally, she broke the silence. "You want to tell me what happened?"

At first she thought he was sleeping, as he didn't answer her question. She went back to watching the road, letting the quiet set in around her before turning on the radio. Gil's hand shot out suddenly, switching the radio off before he sat his head back against the headrest. "Sara loves that song." He said plainly, closing his eyes again.

"You want to talk about it?" Catherine asked again.

He sighed, looking over at her. "No."

"You were in a wreck." She exclaimed, glancing at him again.

"I'm fine." He laid his head back again, closing his eyes to shut her out.

"You were drunk..."

"I know that, Catherine." He snapped. "Just drop it."

"What about your job?" She exclaimed, "What about your career? Are you just going to drop that, too?"

"I said just leave it alone, Catherine." He nearly yelled, glaring over at her.

"What about Sara?" She asked, looking at him again. His face clouded over and he turned away, melting into silence again. Catherine sighed, knowing that she would not get anything further out of him. They drove in silence again for the next 40 minutes when Catherine's phone rang. "Willows..." she answered.

"You need to get back to Vegas," Warrick said as soon as he heard her voice.

"We're almost--" She began when he cut her off.

"Sara's gone back to the hospital." He said quickly. "Nick went with her..."

Catherine's pulse stopped for a moment as she glanced over at Gil. "What happened?"

"I don't know," He sighed. "I'm on my way there now."

"Okay," She breathed into the phone. "We'll be there as soon as possible." She hung up the phone, looking to Gil again. "What the hell happened, Gil?" She demanded loudly. "What the hell did you do?"

"I told you, I don't--"

"Sara's in the hospital." She stated angrily. "So you better figure out what the hell you _are_ going to talk about."

* * *

Someone was tugging on her, pulling her into the water. Sara struggled, fighting off the arms around her leg...she was going down, down under the surface...feeling the ice cold water settle in around her body...it was cold and she began to struggle, pushing away at the hands around her wrist. Someone was yelling and she couldn't understand what they were saying. Why wouldn't they just go away?

She felt the water around her face, engulfing her eyes and nose and throat and she screamed, her lungs filling with a warm, thick ooze. She was beginning to panic, trying to take in air that wasn't there. Suddenly, Sara was very aware of the excruciating pain that had settled onto her chest, crushing her ability to breathe. _'Open your eyes, Sara'_ She told herself, willing her eyes to open. _'WAKE UP, SARA!!'_ She screamed in her head. _'OPEN YOUR EYES! WAKE UPWAKEUPWAKEUP!!'_ She could not open her eyes, the lids were too heavy. The hands on her arms continued to pull her down and she felt herself letting go...down into blackness and the silence; giving up the struggle as the darkness took over.

* * *

Nick was pacing the hospital floor, going from one end of the hallway to the other and back in a rapid succession of wide steps. Warrick sat in a chair along the very same hallway as Greg leaned facing the wall, his head resting on the cool plaster. The ambulance had brought Sara in nearly an hour before and she had disappeared behind the trauma room doors, leaving her friends in a shambled state in the hallway.

When Sara did not answer the home phone or her cell phone, Nick had headed to the townhouse in record time. Finding the door unlocked, he let himself in and called out to her. Upon seeing the ransacked office, he ran through the house, finding her in the bedroom; her breathing shallow and raspy, her body burning up with fever. He had tried to wake her up, had tried to shake her out of her coma-like state, but she did not budge. After calling 9-1-1, he ran to the kitchen and got ice and a wet towel, applying the ice to Sara's fevered body. He had lifted her head, shaking her gently as he called her name, applying ice to her neck and arms before realizing that she was turning slightly blue. When the ambulance arrived, the medics intubated her on the spot before rushing her out the door.

Now he paced the hallway, waiting for the inevitable and fearing the worst. Sara had only been out of the hospital for nearly a week and already she was back while they tried to save her again. The outside doors opened and Catherine and Gil rushed in, looking frantic. "Where is she?" Gil asked, the fear clear on his face.

Before anyone had a chance to respond, Nick was on him, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him violently against the wall. "What the hell were you doing leaving her there alone!?" He screamed at him, banging him against the wall forcefully. "What the hell is wrong with you?! She could have _died_, you bastard!! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HER!"

"Nick!" Warrick was up on his feet, grabbing Nick. "Come on, man...not here."

Nick kept his hold on the shocked Gil, his face only inches from his as he glared at the man. "I swear to _God,_ Gil." He seethed. "I don't give a _shit_ if you _are_ my boss...you _ever_ fuck with Sara again...you even _think_ about hurting her...I'll break your fucking neck." He gave Gil a final shove against the wall, releasing his hold and yanking away from Warrick as he headed down the hallway, punching a wall on the way by.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine**

It was hot in Las Vegas; the temperature spiking just over the triple digit mark. Gabe MacEndal wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of a gloved hand. Too hot; and it was only May. Jumping down from the back of the Las Vegas Solid Waste truck, he continued grabbing residential cans off the street, dumping them into the smoldering pit attached to the back of the truck. Some cities had fancy garbage trucks that did it all for you; all you had to do was sit in the air conditioned cab and push a button. Not Vegas; best casinos and most money spent on tourists, but no money for a decent garbage truck.

He made his way to the last row of cans, grabbing at the last one on the street when the lid fell off. Grumbling, he reached to pick the can up when he smelled the overwhelming scent of chlorine. _'Sheesh' _He thought as the chemical scent stung his eyes. _'What the hell'd they do? Throw out the whole damn swimmin' pool?' _He reached in, pulling up a chlorine soaked bag, weighed down by the thick yellow liquid that also pooled in the bottom of the can.

He motioned to Bud, the driver, to come and take a look. If this was full of bleach or straight chlorine, there was way too much to deposit in the land fill, it'd have to go to the treatment facility. Not to mention, dumping chlorine in your trash receptacle was against city ordinance.

"What ya make of this?" He asked Bud as he approached.

"Whew.." Bud said, covering his eyes as the sting of chlorine hit him. "What the hell're they doin' dumpin' bleach in there?"

"I dunno, but the whole damn bag is drippin' with it." Gabe answered, opening the bag slightly to look in. "Looks like someone's clothes or blankets or somethin'" he said.

"Well, call it in." Bud said heading back to the truck. "The chemical guys are gonna have to come'n pick it up."

Gabe shrugged, dropping the bag back into the bin before grabbing a roll of red tape from the cab. He wrapped the CAUTION: CHEMICALS tape around the can after placing the lid back on, marking it for the chemical crew that Bud was summoning on the radio.

* * *

Gil sat against the hard back of the bench in the hallway; he felt utterly alone and completely lost. It had been over an hour since Nick's outburst and Gil could not blame him for the onslaught of anger; Gil knew he deserved that at the least. If Nick had decided to throw the first punch, Gil would not have put up a fight; he would have taken his blows without resistance. 

There had been no word on Sara; no doctor came out to explain her condition, no nurse stopped to check on Gil as he sat there alone. Catherine and Warrick had stayed with him for awhile, leaving only when they were called to a case. Life in Vegas had to go on, even if Gil felt that his had stopped.

A figure came down the hallway, walking up next to Gil before taking a seat next to him on the bench. Gil looked over, surprised to see Nick staring at him. Gil sighed, staring down at the floor for a few minutes, before saying, "I understand why you would be angry with me"

Nick sat quietly, clenching his jaw momentarily as he fought the overwhelming urge to go off on him again, but he had promised Catherine that he would at least listen to Gil's side of the story and so he just glared at him for a moment. "You have no idea..." He started, stopping himself before he lost it again. He cleared his throat, rearranging his thoughts. "Why'd you leave her there?" He asked, trying hard to hide the bitter bite in his voice. "Why would you do that?"

Gil sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Nick." He sighed desperately. "I know you may not believe me right now, but I love Sara. The last thing I ever wanted to do is hurt her, but it seems as though that is the only thing I have ever done."

"You-left-her-there-alone." Nick said again, enunciating each word. "How is that love?"

"I didn't mean to leave." Gil said quietly, looking back down at the floor. "I don't know what happened...I just walked out..." He swallowed hard, fighting the emotions he was feeling. "I walked out and left her there..." He put his head in his hands a moment, rubbing his tired eyes.

Nick felt his tension relaxing, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Gil had been drinking, he was drunk when he went off the road and totaled the Tahoe. Nick knew how alcohol had a tendency to make people act irrationally. "You were drunk."

"Yeah.." Gil said in disgust. "I was drunk, and I just got up and walked out of the house. I don't really remember driving, or even the accident...I just remember walking out." He thought for a moment. "I remember Sara rubbing my hair," He let out a little bitter laugh. "She was comforting me and then I just left her all alone..."

"Alcohol makes us do things." Nick affirmed

Gil looked over at him, his eyes worried and tired...he looked so much older than his years. "I never should have left her." His eyes glistened with tears and he swallowed hard. "God, Nick. I love her so much...I just don't know what to do." He took a deep breath, continuing "I have loved Sara for so long; it is hard to think of a time that I didn't love her..." He looked at Nick, a sad smile on his face. "I fought it for years...acted like I didn't care, that I didn't notice her...when in actuality she was all I could ever think about." A tear fell from his eye, despite his attempt to keep it back. "Once I finally let her in...I knew I could never let go...but, she wouldn't be here right now...would never have been hurt...if it wasn't for me." He wiped the tear away angrily. "I just started to think that maybe...just maybe...she would be safe if I wasn't around...even if that meant I had to hurt her to keep her safe."

Nick was quiet, not sure what to say. Gil Grissom was pouring his heart out to him, and Gil Grissom never showed any emotion to anyone, except Sara. "We thought we were pregnant once. Did you know that?"

Nick shook his head in response, his anger having completely disintegrated. After a moment, Gil continued. "Sara had missed her period and we thought...well, that she was pregnant." He smiled at the memory. "I never thought I'd want children, but..." He shrugged sadly. "We were both so excited we just sat on the bathroom floor, waiting for that little blue line to appear...It was amazing. I never felt as close to any single person as I did with Sara during that one minute. Just imagining that she and I created a life together...It was like I suddenly realized that I was right where I needed to be...and even having an unexpected child just seemed so right...at that moment I realized my life was complete..." He wiped at his eyes again, trying hard not to belay the level of overwhelming pain he was feeling. "It might not make sense, Nick...but after what Natalie did to Sara just to get even with me...I have just been thinking that she would be safer without me." He looked at Nick again, "I can't imagine a life without Sara...and honestly...for a brief moment, I thought that a life _away_ from her would mean I'd never have to face a life _without_ her..."

Nick was about to say something when one of the trauma physicians walked up to them, removing his mask as he approached. Both he and Gil were on their feet to meet with him.

"Are one of you Gilbert Grissom?" the physician asked.

Gil nodded, "How is Sara? Can we see her?"

The physician sighed, "Take a seat, will you?" He said as he grabbed a chair and pulled it over by the bench they sat on. He looked Gil in the eyes before continuing. "My name is Doctor Morley and I have been attending to Ms. Sidle since she came into the trauma center. It's been a pretty rough go of it, but she is stable right now and we'll be transferring her upstairs to the ICU as soon as possible."

"What happened?" Nick asked quickly. "She wasn't breathing..."

"Ms. Sidle has Aspiration Pneumonitis," Dr. Morley said. "It is an acute form of pneumonia which was most likely the result of the aspiration of a great deal of sand and water from her accident. It is reasonable to believe that Ms. Sidle also aspired fuel within the water, which makes the treatment more aggressive. We have her on a ventilator right now and she will be sedated for a few days." He paused momentarily, continuing. "Also, Ms. Sidle is suffering from sepsis and will be treated with aggressive antibiotics intravenously. She'll be staying here for at least a week until we can get everything cleared up."

Gil stared at him, dubious. "Will she be alright?"

Dr. Morley nodded, "I think it is too early to know for sure, but Ms. Sidle is young and relatively healthy otherwise." He said as he stood up. "We should know more in the next 24-hours...anything else?"

"Yes." Gil stood up, "May I see her?"

"As soon as she is transferred to ICU, I will let you know." With that, Dr. Morley walked back through the trauma doors, leaving Nick and Gil alone in the quietness of the hallway.

* * *

Greg bent over the microscope, studying fibers pulled from Catherine and Warrick's latest case. He had been attempting to match the fabric they had given him, to the blouse of the dead husband's wife; it wasn't working. He was having a hard time concentrating, his mind on Sara and the events of the last week. He had had a hard time accepting the relationship of Sara and Grissom, but had pushed that aside with his worry for Sara. He had wanted to stay at the hospital until word of Sara came through, but Ecklie had demanded his peresence in the lab since Hodges had somehow failed to report to work that shift. Greg made a mental note to get even with Hodges the next time he saw him. 

A sound in the door alerted him to Catherine, who came in with a jar in her hand. "How's it going?" She asked him.

"Well..." He said. "The fibers are definitely from a jean-type jacket..the trick is proving that it came from your vic's wife." Greg said, looking at the jar in Catherine's hand. "What's that?"

"A bullet." She said, handing him the jar. "Seems that the vic had this lodged in his foot..." She shrugged. "Don't know how...but we need to know who."

He took the jar from her, setting it down next to the microscope. "Any word yet?" He asked

Catherine sighed. "Not yet..."

"SANDERS!" They both jumped at Ecklie, who stood in the door with Jim Brass and an officer from the Las Vegas Police Department. "You need to come with us."

Greg looked at Catherine, a confused smile on his face. "Why?" He asked

Jim Brass looked at him dishearteningly, "Because we found the bleach soaked evidence from Sara's case in your garbage dumpster." He said with a slight accusatory tint in his voice. "I think you have some explaining to do."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine**

**(Quote from The Plaint of the Little Bisque Doll, words by Henry. Warner)**

Greg followed Brass and the others in a state of numbness. What did they mean, they found Sara's evidence in his garbage can? This must be some sort of a joke, Nick's idea of a prank; he did owe Greg one after all. Still, this wasn't funny.

They went into the interrogation room and Greg was told to take a seat, which he did. _'Oh, crap. This isn't good.'_ He thought to himself as Brass and the officer sat across from him; Ecklie stood against the wall, his arms crossed as he glared at the young CSI.

"Okay, Greg." Brass started. "Why don't you tell us what happened."

Greg stared at him, looking over at Ecklie and the officer before settling back on Brass. "What are you talking about?" He laughed nervously. "This is just a joke, right?" He looked around the room before landing his eyes on Brass again. "Right?"

"Don't give us that, Sanders." Ecklie snapped. "You know what we're talking about. Sidle's evidence is taken by someone in this lab and it just miraculously ends up in your garbage bin." He came over to the table, placing his hands on the table as he leaned towards Greg. "Why don't you tell us how it got there?"

"I...uh..." Greg glanced around again, confusion molding into fear as the reality of the situation settled in on him. "I---wait...in _my_ garbage can? That's ridiculous!"

Brass looked at him, his steady gaze starting to make Greg nervous. "Greg, listen..." he said. "I don't want to play games with you...I've known you what? Six years?" He summarized. "I know that someone took the evidence. Someone from this lab, someone with a key...and there are only a few people here who have a key." He motioned towards Greg to indicate his point.

Greg met his eyes and Brass looked away, obviously uncomfortable with questioning Greg. When it came to the CSI's, Brass was always one to trust their word. "I didn't take Sara's evidence." Greg said. "There's no way I would do that..." he trailed off as the officer next to Brass threw something on the table; it was an evidence file.

"You soaked the clothes in chlorine," The man said bitterly. "Wiped out any trace evidence and destroying any genetic material." He snickered, "Clever...something a CSI could think up...destroy the evidence, get rid of proof...make sure no one could tie you to---"

"I didn't do it!" Greg exclaimed, suddenly angry. He could feel the fight or flight in him and he sure as hell wasn't going to flee. "You cannot possibly think that I had anything to do with Sara's accident-"

"It wasn't an accident, Sanders." Ecklie snapped. "You know that, I know that...hell, even _Sidle_ knows that." He stood up, pacing for a moment before facing Greg again. "How can you possibly sit there and tell us that you did not take the evidence when it is found in your residential garbage bin with bleach all over it?"

Greg felt his heart skip at the mention of bleach; that was the one link that they thought they had to the Miniature Killer, to Natalie, before she took Sara. Suddenly, he felt very lightheaded, as if he were in a dream. _'This can't be real.'_ He thought. _'This cannot be happening...I must be dreaming...there's no way this is real.' _"Bleach.." he managed to mumble, looking around again.

"You know what I think?" Ecklie bit, a smirk on his face. "I think you had a thing for Sidle...you thought that she kind of liked you too...and then you found out about her and Grissom...an older man, her boss..._your_ boss...and you snapped...you decided that if you couldn't have her, then--"

Greg wasn't listening...feeling suddenly far away; his ears were roaring in his head, drowning out he voices around him. He watched in amazement as Ecklie demanded his keys, his badge, and his gun and effectively relieved him of his duty until a "complete and thorough investigation was completed." Greg was told not to leave town, not to have contact with 'the victim', and that he may want attorney representation. He could hear the Miranda Rights, but wasn't listening to the words; he couldn't believe what was happening and he knew that no matter what anyone said or did, he was innocent.

He was brought to his feet by unknown hands, and felt his arms brought behind his back as the handcuffs were put on. Suddenly, his throat felt very tight and he felt as though someone were squeezing the air out of him. He saw the look in Brass's eyes; the look of disappointment. He was marched out of the interrogation room and by Grissom's office, the break room, the evidence vault and the lab...where Catherine stood open mouthed watching as he went by, the tears in her eyes obvious even from a distance.

* * *

Natalie sat in her cushioned cell, diligently pulling out the tiny threads from her hospital clothes. One by one, each tiny thread was removed as she studied it meticulously, tilting her head from side to side before placing the thread onto the pile on the table. She had done nothing but this for hours, for days, for two weeks; the psychiatric hospital staff having replaced her clothes four separate times. 

As she pulled the threads she would chant the same words over and over again until the hospital staff would give her a sedative, just to quiet her down.

_Oh, I've got a pain in my sawdust!_

_That's what's the matter with me.  
Something is wrong with my little insides. _

_I'm just as sick as can be. _

_Quick, get me a fan. _

_Someone else run for the medicine man. _

_Everyone hurry as fast as you can. _

_I've got a pain in my sawdust_

Each day for Natalie was exactly the same as the last; she would be woken up, fed breakfast, and then she would sit in her room alone, chanting to herself and picking out the threads of her clothing. She would think about the models and the doll and about _her. _He had found her, she knew he would, and he had solved the puzzle she had made for him; but he hadn't won the game yet. _'Nooo..' _She smiled slightly. _'Not yet...'_

Today was different; today she had a visitor. They came to get her, to bring her to the room so she could see her friend. She knew he would come, that he would take her out of there and then they could finish the game.

Natalie was walked into the small visitor's room, where her friend sat and waited for her. She saw him, and smiled, hiding her face so no one could see. He looked nervous, scared, and he was fidgeting with his hands.

As she sat down, she watched his hands, fascinated at the movement; at his fingers. They were so slender and she thought that they would be good model makers. "You came." She said, looking up at him quickly.

Her friend nodded. "There will be some people coming to see you, Natalie." He said. "They will ask you questions, they'll want you to talk to them."

"But I wont." She whispered, starting to smile. "I remember...don't talk...that's what you said. I remembered."

"Yes...yes, you did." Her friend smiled back at her. "But, remember Natalie...they'll try to trick you, they'll try to pretend like they care about you..."

"But they don't." she agreed, the smile brighter on her face, proud that she could figure this out.

"No," He shook his head. "They don't care about you, Natalie. They care about her. They'll be here for her and they'll want you to help them so they can help her."

Her face became dark and she looked down at her hands. "I wont!" She insisted. "I wont help them. Not for _her_."

"Good, Natalie." Her friend smiled a little. "I brought you something. A present, for being such a good girl."

She looked up, a small smile playing on her lips. Her friend reached into a bag and brought out something that made Natalie's eyes grow wide with excitement. "A doll!" She exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "My doll!"

"That's right, Natalie." Her friend smiled, handing her the doll and watching as she stared with fascination at the face before hugging it to her. He stood up, looking down at her. "Now just remember, don't tell them anything and you can keep your doll."

She looked up at him, hugging the doll protectively. "Oh, I wont." She shook her head. "I promise."

He smiled again, putting his hand on her head and rubbing her hair before turning to leave. Before he left the room, David Hodges turned to watch her slowly rocking the Bisque doll back and forth. _'Piece of cake' _He muttered, putting his sunglasses on and walking out of the room.

* * *

Greg sat on the the thin mattress of his jail cell, waiting for someone...anyone...to come and tell him that it was all a mistake; that he was free to go. No one came and for six hours he sat, shivering against the cold as he stared at the wall. He tried to play back the events that had happened, that had brought him here, but the only thing that played in his head was the feeling of the handcuffs, the coldness of the ink as he was printed and the flash of the bulb that took his mug shot. Something was wrong; this was wrong...why couldn't anyone see that? 

He thought of Sara. What would she think, if she knew? Would she believe that he could do anything so awful? That he could have been a part of her pain and suffering? _'No,'_ He told himself. _'No.'_ He knew, if Sara were here, she would believe him. He remembered when he had been beaten by the street gang and she was there, hovering above him with her sweet smell and her soft hands; offering him comfort when no one else came to his side. That is how it was with Sara; when you needed her the most, she was there. She was always there. Greg swallowed hard; he wished she were there now.

In jail, you don't have any rights. In jail, you don't even have an identity. They strip it from you and throw it in a box, placing it on the shelf and making you prove that you deserve to have it back. Greg had only been there a few hours, but already...he knew that. He was no longer CSI Sanders...he was inmate number 1432 and he was a criminal.

* * *

Gil was asleep in Sara's room when his phone rang, waking him up with a jolt. He sat up, feeling the pain in his neck from sleeping in a chair and looked at the clock; 8:30 AM. He dug his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, "Grissom." 

"Hello, Grissom," Came the voice on the other end of the line."Did you forget it was your move?"

Gil sat up, confusion taking over his mind momentarily. "Excuse me?"

"It's your move," The voice repeated. "Did you forget? You can't quit the game in the middle" The voice chided at him. "It's against the rules."

"Who is this?" Gil barked, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up with a shudder of fear that went through him.

"Oh, now Gil...what fun would that be if I told you?" The voice laughed. "Your army is falling...you are losing your pieces...I thought you were smarter than that."

Gil looked at Sara, the ventilator keeping her breathing, the IV drip delivering desperately needed antibiotics. "Tell me who--"

"Sara wasn't supposed to be a part of the game," Gil felt his blood freeze as the caller continued."She wasn't meant to be a game piece...but I guess you made your sacrifice...I just hope it was worth it..."

Gil stood dumbstruck, his mouth opening to say something, anything..."It's your turn, Gil." The caller whispered."Better pick your move carefully...'cause if you don't, you wont find her the next time." The line went dead and Gil stood immobilized, staring at Sara as he dropped his phone on the floor, where it shattered into irreparable pieces, echoing the life that Gil had waited so long to build.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine**

_Funny thing about floating; you can feel the world around you without even touching anything. Feelings and emotions seem to come through even though you can't experience them. There are voices all around you and you can pick up who they are; but you forget the words as soon as they are spoken. Touches turn to shivers, tears tingle like tiny spider legs, walking up your spine to settle in your head, where they spin tiny little webs in your memory. Yep, funny thing about floating. _

Sara could feel the sensations; she could hear the voices that surrounded her room. She had tried, several times, to just open her eyes and look at them; to see who it was that spoke in whispers around her, hushed sounds that turned to quiet wind within her ears. Her throat felt funny; it didn't hurt, but it didn't feel right either. She had tried to swallow, eliminating the lump in her throat, but she felt paralyzed and unable to manage even the slightest of movement. She would lay immobilized, trying to concentrate on the world around her, the sounds and movement, and the touches on her hand. As soon as she thought she made a connection, could understand the simplest word, she felt herself being drawn back down again; and even though she knew she should struggle, she would let go of the ledge of reality and float away.

* * *

Sara had been back in the hospital for three days, during which time Gil had held a steady vigil, refusing to leave her side if even for a few moments. Brass had provided security for her room, a faithful guard who stood watch over anyone who neared; but Gil still refused to leave her alone. He had finally conceded, on the third day, to return to the townhouse to take a shower and change his clothing. They had sent their dog, Bruno, to Brass's house while Sara was in the hospital after the accident, and Gil had left him there; figuring it was better for the time being.

He made his way through their home, which seemed entirely too big and far too cold; the shadows that haunted the rooms bringing back vivid memories that he did not want to face. He thought a lot about Greg and what he must be feeling; how scared and confused he must be, knowing he was innocent yet walking through life as a guilty man. Gil thought it was funny in an ironic kind of way, that the one person alive, who wouldn't hurt a single person, was the one person who had been singled out. It just wasn't fair and Gil felt powerless to change it.

The very day that Greg had been booked in to the county jail, his friends had rallied to provide enough money to get him out. Warrick had drained his vacation account; Nick forked over the money he had been saving for the vintage '66 Mustang he wanted, and Catherine had dug into her inheritance fund. Even Gil had written a check directly from his and Sara's travel savings, and Greg's freedom had been bought. He was warned to stay away from Sara (_'Yeah, like that'll fly with her when she wakes up'_ Nick had told him after he was released) and to not leave town; which was highly unlikely since Greg was one of the most honest people anyone had ever known. It angered Gil to see him railroaded and he had made up his mind that they would find a way to prove he was innocent, even if it cost all of them their life savings to do it.

He was on his way back out to the taxi he had called, since he could no longer drive after his idiotic drinking incident, when something in the back of Sara's car caught his attention. The car had been thoroughly swabbed for evidence after Sara's disappearance and cleared for release two days before she left the hospital. He had driven the vehicle back himself and knew that he hadn't put anything in the back. When he glanced at the back of the car, he noticed something sticking up between the window and the back window shelf; it looked like a box flap, except the distinct colors made him freeze in place. Digging keys out of his pocket, he unlocked the hatchback and lifted it up, the strong smell of chlorine hitting his senses and making him step back momentarily. Sitting in the back of Sara's car was an opened case of bleach; the bottles were opened and empty, the contents having been dumped. Gil stood dumbfounded for a few horrifying moments before running into the house to call Jim.

* * *

Warrick had been working on Sara's bleach soaked evidence for well over 2 hours and his neck was killing him. The heavy fumes from the bleach were still strong enough to give him a headache and he had finally put on a pair of goggles to stop the stinging in his eyes. He had no idea why he was even bothering with the stuff, the bleach had ruined everything and any physical evidence still intact was inundated with chlorine.

He took out a chemical sensitive light and began scanning Sara's CSI vest, carefully scanning each section for any possible lead. Turning the vest inside out, he began scanning the inside when he suddenly stopped, squinting at the fabric before him before ripping off his goggles and rushing from the room.

He caught Catherine in the lab, studying something under the microscope. "I got a shoe print." He gushed as he entered the room.

She looked up at him, opening her mouth before pointing to the microscope. "The fiber on the garbage bag is standard issue." She told him. "The same bag that is used here on the janitorial cart." She paused, looking thoughtful before exclaiming "Shoe prints on Sara's clothes?"

He nodded, backing out of the room as she followed. "On her vest; it wasn't there before." They made their way to the layout room, where he had the vest laid out. Catherine grabbed some goggles, putting them on before grabbing the light he had used. She studied the vest for a long period of time before turning to Warrick, her eyes wide with excitement. "Print it." She said as she headed back out of the room, pulling her cell phone from her pocket.

* * *

Nick was laying underneath a '97 Cadillac when his phone started to ring; groaning, he pushed himself out from under the car and wiped his hands on his pant leg. Sara was the car expert, she could tear the thing apart and diagnose the rigged portion before he could even get the torque wrench plugged into the air compressor; he wished she were there now. "Stokes." He said into the phone

"It's Catherine…hey, did you get that sand off to trace?" She asked

"You mean off the garbage bag?" He asked, standing up and finding a grease rag for his hands. "Sent it out two days ago. Why?"

"I think you better call them," She instructed. "Tell them to put a rush on things…Warrick found a shoe imprint…I think we're on to something."

"I'm on it." He said before flipping the phone closed. He removed the coveralls he was wearing and deposited them in the laundry before heading out of the building.

* * *

Greg lay in the hammock on his balcony, lazily rocking back and forth as the hot sun beat down on him. He thought about having a drink, maybe even two, but then he remembered what had happened to Grissom just a few days ago. No, on second thought, he'd just lay there in the sun.

He had been listening to the radio for a while, switching to CD's when he got bored with the station. He remembered all the times in the lab when he and Sara had put in some random CD, turning the volume up past blaring and then just dancing around in their socks; totally against protocol, but it helped to relieve the stress of the job. One thing he had never been able to figure out before was how he would get the third degree from Grissom every time he came in and had to turn the music off, but when Sara took the blame for it (which she started to do every time, whether it was her doing or not), Grissom would just stare at her quietly before leaving the lab without a word. Now, of course, Greg understood why…he had always thought it was favoritism on Grissom's part. Actually, he was quite right about that; when it came to Sara, she was definitely Grissom's favorite. _'In more ways than one.'_ He thought to himself, reaching over for the ice tea that was slowly warming up on the balcony rail.

Any other time, this would be a wonderful moment; lazing in the sun, drinking iced tea, and listening to music. Totally separated from the lab and the stress of the field. But, this time it wasn't so wonderful; he was facing criminal charges for something he didn't do…to someone he cared so much for. On second though, maybe he would have a drink after all.

* * *

David Hodges sat pondering the cup of coffee in front of him. He wasn't particularly interested in the coffee, as a matter of fact, it had long since gone cold. He was pondering his situation and the possibility that he had done something wrong, anything wrong. Catherine had buzzed through a few minutes before, gushing about evidence and sand and something about a shoe print.

Shoe print? It couldn't be his…could it? He had picked up his foot, looking thoughtfully at the bottom of his shoe. Not distinct, no telltale patterns that would decipher these shoes from any other set of the millions of shoes like it…but, still….he would have to dispose of them, throw them in Lake Mead or burn them in a bon fire out at the old quarry. Suddenly, he felt very aware of his shoes; they felt too big and bulky, too obvious to even the untrained eye.

He leapt up and rushed from the room, colliding with Nick on the way out. "Whoah.." Nick drawled, a smile on his face. "Where you off to in such a hurry?"

"I..uh…" He stammered, trying hard to hide his shoes. Nick looked down at his feet momentarily, looking back up at him in amusement.

"You got athletes foot or something?" he smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "You should take a break, man. This place'll drive you crazy if you don't"

Hodges turned and hurried down the hallway, thinking _'You have no idea.'_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine 

'_I just don't think I can do this anymore...'_ _Sara tried to open her eyes, to fight against the_ _restraints__that held her down. The spiders in her room were getting bigger, crawling on the walls and falling off the ceiling, making little thumping sounds as they hit the floor. Sara screamed...she tried to scream, the blockage in her throat strangling her, cutting off her voice before she could utter a sound. _

_Sara knew something was very wrong; she was awake, wide-awake. She could hear sounds around her, could hear as an intercom paged a doctor somewhere far, far away. She could not see anything, could not open her eyes. Where was she? Where was Gil? Then she remembered, he had left...left her alone in this room full of spiders, tied down with rope._

'_You were his greatest sacrifice...' someone was laughing, pushing her towards the edge. She tried to stop it, to cement her feet into the sand, but the sand turned to mud and the mud turned to red...the color of blood...she started clawing at the invisible hands, fighting and pushing as the pressure increased, cutting off her oxygen as the rain poured down. She was at the edge, looking down but all she could see was darkness; the hands kept pushing and she began to cry; as she stared over the edge she heard him laughing at her... laughing and crying and telling her to forgive him...telling her he had no choice._

'_Grissom picked you,' David had said as he pushed Sara over the edge. She struggled and fought as she fell towards the darkness, putting her hands out to break her fall, the spiders scattering as she hit the hard earth below._

Sara's eyes flew open, as her nightmare became reality. She had no idea where she was, and the figure standing next to her bed seemed ominous and surreal. She tried hard to focus, to clear the fog from her eyes as she felt her pulse begin to race. _'Oh, God…please not again.' _She thought desperately, confusion taking place of the panic in her head. _'Please, please…not again…'_ Next to her, a hand was in her hair as a familiar voice whispered, "I am sorry…he left me no other choice." Sara felt something pinch her arm as the air left her lungs and she began to choke, trying desperately to gasp for air as the figure left her side.

The buzzing alarm at the nurse's station alerted them that something was wrong in room 133. Glancing up at the monitor, the head nurse alerted the staff of a code blue as she rushed down the hallway to Sara's room. The guard on duty was asleep, sitting in the chair next to the door when he awoke to the commotion around him; David Hodges had slipped in and out of Sara's room unnoticed. He had walked down the hallway at a quick pace, the staff too preoccupied with the sudden emergency to pay him any attention.

Sara thrashed on the bed, her body ravaged by seizure. Dr. Morley yelled for Diazepam, holding Sara down as the head nurse grabbed her head, trying to keep the breathing tube from damaging her airway as the seizure controlled her body. As the doctor injected Sara with the anti-seizure medication, the nurse looked over at the ventilator, alarm running through her; someone had disconnected the tube from the machine.

Sara's seizure began to subside, but her eyes were wide open. She stared at the nurse above her with wide-eyed anxiety, the fear evident in her brown eyes. Dr. Morley removed Sara's breathing tube, speaking to her in soft tones as he did so, instructing her on what would happen. He allowed her to gasp for breath and waiting as her lungs began to function on their own. After a few calming moments, the nurse looked down at Sara as she continued to hold her head in place. "It's okay," She soothed, "Just take deep breaths…you're going to be okay."

Sara continued to gasp, trying hard to figure out what was happening to her. Who were these people? Where was Grissom? _'Please just get Gris,' _she begged silently as she stared at the nurse, a tear rolling down her cheek. _'Please…' _

"Calm down, Sara." The nurse soothed again, smoothing Sara's hair as she continued her steady vigil stabilizing her. "That's a girl…deep breaths…" Sara's eyes stayed focused on the face above her, the calming voice coaxing her into compliance. The nurse would breathe deep and exhale, encouraging Sara to do the same. Soon Sara's breathing became steady and the nurse smiled down at her. "That's much better, Sweety." She said.

Dr. Morley was busy checking Sara's vital signs, listening to her heart and checking her limbs for further injury. "She must have yanked that out with the seizure." One of the attending nurses said, motioning to the ventilator.

Dr. Morley looked at the machine, rubbing his hands down Sara's arm as he checked for broken bones. He noticed something wet on his hand and looked down; blood. Grabbing some gauze from the cart, he wiped the blood and noticed a tiny lesion. "Did you inject her with anything?" He asked the head nurse, who was still quietly calming Sara.

She looked up at him, puzzled. "No," She said. "We were at the station when the alarm went off…I checked in on her thirty minutes ago…"

"Call the authorities," He ordered, grabbing a syringe from the cart and withdrawing blood from Sara's arm. "I think she's been injected with something and…" he glanced at the ventilator. "Ms. Sidle didn't pull that out; it's been cut."

* * *

Conrad Ecklie was in his office, reviewing surveillance video from the night of Sara's abduction. He noted the dark figure that came up behind Sara, hitting her with something unrecognizable. He knew that Archie had tried to bring in the feed so that they could pick up the face, or any other recognizable feature, but it had been a miss. The only thing they knew for sure was that it was a male.

His lab was falling apart and he knew it. _'The only reason it's your lab,'_ Sara had bit at him once. _'is because Grissom doesn't kiss ass...' _Well, not my ass anyway, he thought as he stopped the tape from playing. Turning to his computer, he opened up the crew's time tracking file, knowing that he needed to review hours even though most of them were too engrossed to care about a paycheck. As he scanned the screen, absently clicking the approval button for each CSI, he suddenly stopped, staring at the screen in front of him.

David Hodges was on duty the night that Sara was abducted; yet he hadn't been scheduled for a shift. He also hadn't clocked in or out; Sara had told Detective Brass that she thought he'd been sleeping in his car just before the incident occurred. Why had he not seen that before? Hitting print, Ecklie grabbed the tape from the player as the printer popped out David's time sheet. He jumped from his chair and headed down the hallway; finding Archie hunched over a microscope.

"I need you to run this again," he said as Archie looked up at him. He handed him the tape and continued, "I also need you to pull all of the film from that night. I don't think we went back far enough to catch whoever was in that garage."

"Okay," Archie agreed, looking at the tape suspiciously. "What am I looking for?"

"You'll know when you find it." He said quickly, turning and rushing from the room.

* * *

Catherine bent in the scorching sun, carefully swabbing Sara's car for prints. Uniformed officers scoured the townhouse, looking for any signs of tampering as Gil diligently processed the car's interior. Day shift was handling the majority of the other calls, leaving Gil and Catherine's crew to concentrate on Sara's case.

Catherine looked up as Nick pulled in the driveway, hopping out of the truck as Warrick bounded around behind him. "We got a hit on the sand," Nick began as he handed Catherine a report. "It's from an area East of Vegas... maybe the old air strip?"

She took the paper, scanning it quickly before looking back at the men. "You guys on your way out there?"

"Yeah," Nick said, motioning towards Sara's car. "Find anything?"

"Nothing yet." She sighed. "Bleach is cased, probably bought at Costco. I have Wendy checking the local stores for sales...it's a long shot, but we might get something."

The sound of a car approaching caught their attention and they watched as Jim Brass skidded to a stop in front of the house, opening his door and running around the front of the car. "Why don't you answer your phone?" He yelled to Grissom.

Gil looked out from the front of Sara's car, carefully climbing out before replying. "I broke it; remember?"

Brass nodded. "I just got a call from the hospital," He said. "Someone got into Sara's room…they've called for a full investigation." He looked around at the dumbstruck faces, landing his gaze back on Gil. "You need to get back there," He said seriously. "The doctor thinks someone tried to kill her."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 **

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine**

**Author's note: I am contemplating how to end this story; as I have to eventually end it. **

**I have an ending in mind that is angsty and tragic; not sure how to build up to it, but I will get there...bare with me...Although, most of the stuff I write just pours out of me after a long day at work and I just end up writing for hours...so, the ending may not be exactly what I think it will be. **

**Also, please review. If you would prefer a 'happier' ending, let me know...'cuz what I am thinking may not be so happy...(Only a few more chapters, maybe 3-4, and I'll be done...okay, well, maybe 5...they're short chapters). So, tell me what you prefer...angsty or happy?**

* * *

When Gil and Brass arrived at the hospital, there was a swarm of police cruisers in front and the hallways were buzzing with activity. Sofia looked up from where she was interviewing the guard on duty, and seeing the men approaching she broke away to meet them halfway. 

"Guard fell asleep," she began as they stopped in front of her. "didn't notice a thing until the hospital staff ran into the room."

"Sara..." Gil began, glancing over Sofia's shoulder towards the room.

"She was asleep when I first came in," She answered. "Wendy's in there now, processing the scene."

'_The scene...'_ The words hit Gil hard and he had to fight the urge to march past Sofia and grab the guard by the neck. _'How could he just fall asleep and leave her vulnerable?'_ He thought angrily, but then another thought hit him, _'I just left her here alone; I left her again. I'm no better than he is.'_

"Gil?" Brass's voice brought him out of his thoughts and he looked at him. "You still with us, buddy?"

"Uh..." He stammered. "Yeah...yeah...I just...I'd like to see Sara..."

Sofia nodded turning and walking alongside he and Brass as they made their way to the room. "Doc thinks she was injected with something that caused the seizure, since medically induced coma patients do not usually have the ability to move, let alone seize...they're waiting for the tox report to come back from the lab...oh and," She stopped, putting her hand up to stop Gil as he advanced. "Someone cut the ventilator tube... that was obvious."

Gil froze in his spot, staring at Sofia in disbelief. "Seizure?" He said, almost more to himself than anyone else.

Sofia glanced from him to Brass and back again. "You didn't know?" It was more a statement than a question.

But he wasn't listening, he moved past her, pushing through the door to Sara's room in a dreamlike state. Sara lay on the bed, eyes closed, as Wendy made her way around the room, photographing and taking various physical evidence. Wendy looked up as he came in, offering him a slight smile.

He advanced towards Sara's bed, amazed still at the overwhelming emotions that hit him every time he saw her. The bruising on her face was beginning to fade, the scratches appearing as only faint discoloration, and the dark bruise around her neck was all but gone. He took her hand gently in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

"She...uh..." Wendy began as she collected her kit. "She was awake just a bit ago...she...uhm...told me to question the spiders...she said that they were witnesses...probably could give me some information..."

Gil nodded, a tiny smile playing on his lips. "Morphine..." he commented

Wendy nodded, coming up next to him. "I think I have enough...I'll get it back to the lab and see what we can come up with."

He was silent, nodding scarcely as she departed. He sat gently at the edge of Sara's bed, rubbing her hand absently as he stared at her. "I am so sorry, Sara." He whispered.

Her eyes began to flutter as she opened them, searching the room before landing her gaze on him. She stared at him for a few quiet moments, her brown eyes taking him in with a mixed look of confusion and pain. "Hey..." she said hoarsely.

He could feel tears stinging his eyes, damning himself for allowing his emotions to control his actions. "Hi."

"Did you talk to the spiders?" She asked seriously, her brown eyes imploring him.

"Uhm...nooo..." He smiled. "I didn't see them."

She was silent, looking around the room. "I don't remember coming here." She said as she looked back at him. She studied his face for a long while, her eyes boring into him. "You left..."

He dropped his eyes from hers, unable to take the mix of hurt and accusation she held within hers. "I didn't leave you, Sara..."

"Yes," She continued, her voice sounding scratched. "You left me..." she squeezed his hand a little, trying to offer him comfort. "It's okay...I understand...sometimes we have to go away to find out where we're going."

He looked back up at her; how she could be comforting him at a time like this amazed him. She should be angry or bitter, or even hurt; but she was sympathetic, trying to make him feel better. God, he loved her. "I am so sorry, Sara." He said, choking on his emotions. "I don't know what I was doing, or what I was thinking...I guess I just wasn't thinking."

"You have a right to freak out." She said simply. "I would freak out."

He shook his head. "No, you wouldn't." He stated earnestly. "You would keep me strong."

She was quiet, smiling just slightly at him. "I'm not an easy person to take care of lately..." she mumbled. "I talk to spiders." After another quiet lapse, she said, "They took my cast off, did you see?"

He nodded, "Your leg was swollen, you had a bad infection." He reached up, tenderly touching her cheek, smoothing her hair. "You were a very sick woman. They've had you in a medically induced coma to give your body a chance to fight back."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well...that explains the spiders."

"What else do you remember?"

"Just the spiders," She sighed. "And I don't think they'll really be much help."

The door to her room opened and Brass stepped in, offering the couple a smile. "Well," he greeted. "Look who's decided to wake up." He walked over to Sara's bed, rubbing her arm a little. "How are you doing, Kiddo?"

"Better than the last time I was in this place." She replied sleepily. "You're not going to ask me a bunch of questions again, are you?"

Brass patted her arm gently. "No, no...but I do need to speak to Gil for a bit."

"Go easy on him," She whispered, her eyes beginning to close. "He's had a rough week..."

Gil stood up, bending over Sara to plant a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be right outside." He said softly.

"And I'll be right here..." She mumbled as she drifted off to sleep.

Once out of the room, Brass led Gil into an office down the hallway where Dr. Morley was waiting along with one of the hospital's administrators. They exchanged greetings before Gil and Brass sat at the table with them.

Dr. Morley took a breath, beginning. "As you know, we did a toxicology screen on Ms. Sidle, based on the presence of a small lesion on her left arm." He passed a sheet of paper towards Gil as he continued, "She had extremely high levels of Apo-Amitriptyline and Isocarboxazid in her system." He waited as Gil studied the paper, allowing him to absorb the information. "Apo-Amitriptyline is an anti depressant, that alone has a low incidence of side affects...however, when combined with other medications, such as Isocarboxazid, the medications create a convulsionary state; especially at such exaggerated levels as we found in Ms. Sidle's blood sample."

"Isocarboxazid is an anti-depressant also," Gil thought aloud. "It's side effects alone make it a dangerous drug of choice for patients..."

"Whoever chose these two medications together knew what they were doing." Dr. Morley added. "They deliberately chose them for the specific reaction that Ms. Sidle had. And the dosage level was high enough to cause brain damage and even death. If we had not been alerted by her monitoring system, this would have been enough to kill her."

"We believe," The administrator began, "that whoever did this to her fully expected to completely shut down her ventilation system as well as the monitoring system...but, her seizure came on too fast and they panicked before the machine was effectively disabled."

Gil stared around at them, the phone call he had received playing through his head; someone wanted to kill Sara to get to him, and Natalie was in custody. Who else could there be?

"Did anyone see anything?" Brass questioned as he also reviewed Sara's toxicology report.

"No," Dr. Morley responded. "Everyone was pretty busy just trying to get Ms. Sidle under control...no one saw anyone go in or out of her room...the guard was asleep." He shrugged. "My head nurse had checked on her only a half an hour prior to the incident...I'm sorry, I really wish I could be of more assistance."

"You've already done more than I could ever thank you for," Gil said as he stood up. "You saved her life."

* * *

"We're going to have to talk to her." Brass was saying as he and Gil headed down the hallway towards Sara's room. 

Gil stopped, eyeing him levelly. "No, Jim." He said firmly. "You remember what happened the last time? I don't think Sara can handle that."

"Sara can't, or you can't?" Brass shot back as Gil stopped to glare at him. "Look, Gil...I know you want to protect her; I know you don't want her to be upset by all of this, and Lord knows that I understand she has been raked over the coals enough for a lifetime...but, we need to find out what she remembers about Natalie...it may be the key that saves her life."

"I want Sofia to do it." Gil stated. "If it has to be done, let Sofia do it." They started walking again, stopping just in front of Sara's room where a new guard was on duty. He stood as the two men approached, requesting ID, which they provided.

"Okay." Brass conceded. "I'll arrange it."

Gil gave him a nod before disappearing into Sara's room, where she slept soundly, dreaming of Spiders and a little Bisque doll.

* * *

Two days after Sara's incident, Greg was busy annihilating an army of miniature ghouls when his doorbell rang, causing him to be violently stabbed through the heart. Cursing, he put the game paddle down as he rose to answer the door. 

"Hey!" Nick greeted, holding up a six-pack of beer as Greg opened the door. "Got time for a visitor?"

Greg stood aside, letting him in. "Oh, man!" Nick exclaimed. "I love this game."

"Yeah," Greg commented as he joined Nick on the couch. "I'm trying to increase my skills so Sara won't keep creaming me every time we play."

"You too?" Nick smiled, handing him a beer. "Whenever we play, she wipes out my army and then hunts me with a bazooka."

Greg laughed as he opened the beer. After taking a drink, he became serious. "How is she?"

Nick took a drink, letting it slide down his throat before answering. "Better now." He said. "She's awake and talking; she doesn't remember anything that happened to her."

"That's probably for the best." Greg commented, handing Nick a paddle. "I'd really like to see her."

"Well," Nick lifted his beer at him. "That is why I am here, my friend. Sara...would like to see you."

Greg looked at him seriously. "I can't." He said quickly. "I'm forbidden from-"

Nick grinned, shaking his head. "Not anymore." He replied, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to him. "Warrick, Cath and I went and saw Judge Meadows...with the blessing of Ecklie." He smiled at the shocked look on Greg's face. "Ecklie realized that you were out in the field in Dennison at the time of Sara's abduction..." He stopped smiling as he continued. "Also, one of your neighbors across the alley remembered seeing Sara's car behind your place the morning of the 5th, reported a male getting out, but didn't see his face. You were at the lab...with Ecklie, at the time."

Greg stared at the letter in front of him, officially dropping all charges against him. "So, I'm a..." He began.

"A free man!" Nick smacked him on the back. "And in debt...you owe us all a crap load of money."

Greg smiled, but still a little puzzled said, "Am I a CSI again, also?"

"Well, that I am not sure." Nick said. "I believe Ecklie has some groveling to do...he feels like the ass he is." He grinned again, shoving Greg with his shoulder. "So drink up, man...I'm about to kick your ass!" He grabbed the paddle as Greg laughed, turning on the game and proceeding to eliminate Nick's entire game strategy.

* * *

"So, you don't remember her?" Sofia asked. She had waited a few days to question Sara, wanting to be sure that the brunette had received ample time to recover from her latest incident.

Sara nodded. "I don't think so." She said, pausing thoughtfully. "There were so many kids, it is hard to tell which one she was."

Natalie pulled out a photograph, passing it to Sara. Sara studied it for a very long time, her thoughts quiet to both Gil and Sofia. "I'm sorry." She said. "I just don't remember her."

Sofia glanced at Gil before continuing. "Do you remember a doll?"

"Yeah," Sara smiled. "Doris...Mrs. Tempsey...gave me a doll when I went away to Harvard. She said she'd had it since she was a small girl; Bethany... their daughter, she had the other one."

"There were two?" Gil asked.

Sara nodded. "I gave the doll back a few years ago, when Doris died." She said. "Bethany had two daughters, and I thought the doll was better off with the family...than with me. That is what Doris would have wanted."

Sofia sighed, looking down at her notes. "Well, I guess that Natalie was pretty upset when you took the doll."

"So..." Sara began, biting her bottom lip. "You're saying that all of this happened to me because of a doll?" She looked incredulous. "That is so ridiculous..."

Sofia looked over at Gil, knowing that there was much more to it than just a doll, but she didn't speak to it, knowing also that some things were better left for him to explain. "Sara, if you can think of anything...anything at all..." she said. "Please let me know."

Sara looked at her and nodded. "Have you talked to Harold Tempsey?" She asked suddenly.

"I have." Sofia responded as she began to stand up. "He is well..."

"Well, at least there's that." Sara said as Sofia headed for the door.

"You take it easy," Sofia said as she opened the door. "No one's doing a damn thing at work without you there..."

Sara smiled at her as she left the room. Once they were alone, Sara looked at Gil. "I want to see her."

"What?" He asked, puzzled.

"Natalie." She said again. "I want to see her."

"Sara..." He began cautiously. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?" She asked. "Why isn't it a good idea?" She was becoming irritated. "The girl just about killed me...she put a _car_ on me, Gil...I have been injected with God knows what, tubed, casted and tied, and spiders were my best friends for days...hell, I thought I was smoking pot with rabbits..._RABBITS_...not to mention that, all time considered, I have officially spent more than 17 full days in this damn place...all of this because of a _doll_?" She was raising her voice and she knew it, but she had just about reached her breaking point. "_I_ am officially going insane here." She held his gaze with her own intense one. "Obviously, something that I did affected that girl's life so traumatically that she has spent years recoiling because of it...and I want to talk to her."

"Uh...no, Sara." He said firmly, standing up.

"Gil, it's not your decision!" She demanded. "It's not your issue, it's mine. And you have no right to tell me no."

"No, Sara!" He suddenly snapped his voice near a yell. "Do you know what I have been through? Do you have any idea what this has been like? Watching you suffer? Watching you die?" He ran a hand through his hair.

"This isn't about you." She said evenly.

"Sara..." He stopped, searching for words. "There are things you do not know."

She stared at him, taking a steadying breath. "Well...maybe you better start telling me, then."

They stayed like that, eyes locked, for what seemed like a very long time before he dropped his gaze. "I'm afraid that if I tell you, you'll send me away." He said defeated.

"You won't know unless you try." She replied in a soft tone. "Gil, you have to talk to me..."

He sighed, walking towards her and sitting on the edge of the bed. She would be released in just a few days, and her wounds were healing quickly. Taking her hand, he played with it lovingly for a few minutes, willing himself to open his mouth and talk. "Sara..." He looked up at her, her beautiful brown eyes staring at him with a confused curiosity, and he faltered. "Somehow, when I look at you..." He said ever so softly. "...you knock my breath away..."

"You have to tell me..." She encouraged, rubbing his hand with hers.

He took a deep breath, keeping his gaze down at their hands, amazed at how well hers fit in his, how their fingers danced together, how they just fit. "Natalie wasn't just obsessed with the doll." He said finally, afraid to look at her face. "She considered you a puzzle piece...my puzzle piece...a living doll" He swallowed, still enamored with her fingers. "You were her very last miniature... she saw me...she saw me look at you...watched me touch you..." He could feel his voice cracking, feeling suddenly the need to bolt. To run from the room and not look back, but he forced himself to continue. Sara deserved to know. "Because I loved you," he looked up at her, the tears he was holding in so desperately beginning to slide down his cheeks. "so damn much...and even though I tried so hard...you are my weakness, Sara...I am nothing without you..." He brought one shaky hand to his face, trying to gain control of his emotions. "They saw, with you, the chance to get to me...they made you a part of the game...part of my game...and it is my fault." He looked at her, the pain in his expression overwhelming. "If I had never loved you...you would have never been hurt."

Sara watched him, watched as his solid exterior crumbled and he became a vulnerable boy before her. "Hey..." she whispered, pulling his arm towards her. He collapsed into her, hugging her gently as he let the tears fall. She smoothed his hair, feeling her own tears threatening to fall. "If you had never loved me," she said softly. "I would have been lost my whole life." He pulled back, looking into her eyes. "And Natalie would have still done what she did, eventually...you and I just happened to both cross her path at the same time...and you can't blame yourself for that."

"There's someone else." He told her. "And I don't know if I can protect you..."

"But, I don't need you to protect me." She whispered, brushing his hair off his forehead. "I need you to love me...and I need you to forgive yourself...and quit blaming yourself for this. This isn't your fault. There are sick people out there, Gil. Hell, you and I of all people know that...look at our line of work." She smiled encouragingly at him. "Eventually, we're going to piss someone off. Look at Nick, or Catherine...even Brass. It's only a matter of time until our number comes up...its part of the job."

"I honestly thought," He breathed, "That you would be safer without me around." He gazed at her, watching her eyes, her hair...her lips. "I thought that you would walk away." He admitted. "That you would decide I wasn't worth this..."

She put her finger on his lips, quieting him. "I waited over 6 years for you." She reminded him. "There is no way I would ever walk away...but, you have to promise me something..." She was speaking soothingly, her voice hushed and honest. "You have to promise me that no matter what, you will talk to me...because I promise you, I will always listen."

He nodded at her, no words able to escape his mouth as he leaned forward to kiss her. "Someday..." He whispered against her lips. "I'm going to marry you, Sara..."

She kissed him earnestly, and he moved onto the bed with her, laying back and pulling her into his arms. Neither spoke as they cuddled together on Sara's hospital bed, quietly drifting into sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

I do not own CSI (I really like the show, though); the characters are not mine

"Can you give me a logical reason why I can't come back?" Sara demanded into the phone. She had been released from the hospital for a week and already she was restless and ready to get back to work. Her fractured wrist had healed nicely and was not expected to give her any problems; even so, her doctor was less than thrilled about allowing her to use it fully for support on crutches. He had given in reluctantly, coming to understand that arguing with Sara was futile once she'd made her mind up. She had completed her first physical therapy session the day before, and although the pain in her leg was excruciating during the session, she felt valiant at the end of it, knowing she had already accomplished quite a bit. She was still on a regiment of antibiotics to help combat any recurring infection in her lungs, but other than that she felt nearly normal.

"I already told you, Sidle." Ecklie sighed into the phone. "You are not healed from your injuries and I can't have a wounded CSI out in the field."

"You gave me a month." She responded irritably. "It has now been that month; I am ready to come back, I don't see how you can stop me."

"Because I'm your boss." He replied. "And over 17 days of that month you were in the hospital, it isn't as though you were out skiing Lake Mead."

"That means that I have had 13 days, almost two weeks, to sit around at home and fidget." She was being impossible; she knew she was, but she knew also that Ecklie was being just as impossible. Besides, _he_ wasn't her boss, Gil was. "I don't have to go out in the field if you're worried about me sticking a crutch in the evidence or something; but I can work in the lab, I can process evidence. I can do the data analysis... hell, I can even drive..."

"I don't think you'll be driving." He was giving in and she knew it. "And I don't exactly constitute sleeping at your boss's house fidgeting time…Okay, Sidle...starting Monday...but you'll be on Catherine's team; we need to assign you to a different supervisor."

_"What?" _She snapped suddenly, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. 

Ecklie took a long, deep, frustrated breath. "Look, Sidle." He said in a testy voice. "I really don't want to get into this with you over the phone; however, I know you are smart enough to know that what is going on with you and Gil Grissom is against department policy." He paused, continuing "So, if you want to come back to work, you cannot work under his supervision...hell, you'll be lucky if you're even allowed to work in the same building"

"You can't do that." She said in disbelief.

"It's not that I can or I can't." He replied. "It's that departmental policy tells me I _have_ to." He was quiet and Sara could hear him tapping his pen on the desk. "Sidle, listen... Grissom has been making a lot of really bad decisions lately; the relationship between you two is just another nail he has put in his coffin... but I suppose he thought the ride was worth the risk."

Sara wasn't sure how to respond. Gil had worked the previous evening, working on a triple homicide in Henderson; he had not mentioned anything about his career being in jeopardy. "I'm not sure..." She mumbled.

"Of course not." He said annoyingly. "Monday, Sidle." He hung up, leaving her in stunned silence.

Why hadn't Gil told her any of this? He was facing disciplinary actions at work, making bad decisions? He had not indicated to her that anything was out of the ordinary with his position at the lab. Standing up, she grabbed her crutches and made her way towards the bedroom, where Gil was still sleeping. She made her way quietly to her side of the bed, staring over at him; she could not figure out how he could keep something so important from her.

Leaning the crutches on the nightstand, Sara carefully made her way across the bed where he laid, his back to her. She snuggled up next to him, wrapping her arm around him to lay her hand on his bare chest as she kissed the back of his neck; absently, his hand came down to entwine his fingers with hers as he slept. As she lay there contemplating Ecklie's words, Bruno bounded onto the bed with her, laying his head on Sara's hip, offering up a deep sigh of contentment at having his family back together.

Gil stirred slightly, squeezing her hand softly. "I love it when you are close like this." He said sleepily.

Sara kissed the back of his neck again, nestling closer to his body. She didn't want to trouble him with Ecklie, content to lay next to him, breathing in his scent and letting the comfort of the moment wash over her, lulling her into sleep.

* * *

Gil bent over the body, examining it closely for any signs of infestation. It was just past 2:30 in the morning and he and Catherine had been processing the scene for four hours. He was tired and his neck ached; the muscles sore from craning over the evidence for so long. Working without Sara seemed to make the night longer, and he had to admit that for the first time in years, he couldn't wait for the end of shift so that he could go home. Catherine was just across the room, diligently brushing for prints. After a few minutes, she came over to him. 

"Anything?" She asked him

"Well," He said looking up at her over the rim of his glasses. "The body has been here less than ten days, judging by the _Sarcophaga haemorrhoidalis _maggots on the body." He held one up in the jaws of his tweezers, proudly showing her his catch.

She scrunched her nose up. "In English now?"

"It's a Flesh Fly maggot, Catherine." He said simply, putting his find in a container. "From the order Diptera...just like the Blow Fly"

"Wow..." She said as she turned away, shining her flashlight around the room. "Now I can see how you wooed Sara."

She looked back at him, watching as he bent intently over the body, his face caught in a look of extreme fascination. "Soooo..." She said, trying to sound non-interested. "How'd you two hook up? I mean, aside from working in the same lab for seven years that is."

He paused, looking up at her. "Catherine, do you really think we need to discuss this here?" He motioned around the room, giving her a look that said _'What? Are you daft?'_

"You're just avoiding the question," she said as she came back and kneeled next to him, carefully shining her light over the body. "just like you did last week and just like you did this morning."

"And just like I'll keep doing." He said as he stood up, taking off his glasses and depositing yet another squirming maggot into a container.

"Oh, come on Gil." She said as she stood up. "I'm your friend."

"You are my friend." He affirmed. "But, there are just some things in my life you do not need to know."

"Like your relationship with Sara?" She asked.

"Especially." He responded as Dr. Al Robbins's assistant, David Phillips, came into the house carrying his pack. "Hey, David." Gil greeted, happy at a distraction.

"Hey," He said timidly, smiling over at Catherine. David Phillips was a shy person, quiet and reserved, yet well liked and respected by everyone in the lab. "How's Sara?"

"She's quite well, thank you." Gil answered as he made his way towards the door. "She says to tell you thank you for the book; she enjoyed it."

He grinned. "She finished it?" He asked excitedly. "My mom said that was one of her favorite books and so I thought Sara might like it to….a little bit of mystery and cop stuff." He looked at the body. "You guys done here 'cause I gotta get this back to morgue."

"Yes, we are." Gil looked down at the body. "Try to keep as many of the maggots intact as possible will you?"

Phillips nodded. "I hate maggots." He said, pulling on a glove as Gil and Catherine headed out of the house.

They made their way to the Yukon, Gil putting his kit in the back before taking a seat on the passenger side. As Catherine climbed in she looked over at him. "So Sara's living with you full time now?"

He nodded. "I'm not telling you Catherine."

"I am supposed to be your friend." She said as she started the engine. "And you didn't tell me anything, hell even Nick knew about it."

"_Nick_ is Sara's friend." He said as he looked over at her. "I did not tell Nick anything. I did not tell you anything. I did not tell anyone anything." He paused for a moment, reflecting. "Except for a small bit at the hospital after Nick nearly beat me through the wall….I felt pressured."

Catherine chuckled at the memory; the look on Gil's face as Nick had him by the collar had been one she would never forget. "Well, you really went a little berserk on us there for awhile, Gil…Sara has a pretty powerful hold on you."

He gave her a disheartening look. "I do not understand everyone's preoccupation with my personal life."

"Maybe because you haven't had a personal life in 20 years." She replied as she pulled the Yukon onto the highway. "And because it involves Sara...I mean, you are her _boss_, Gil...that there perks up a lot of attention. Not to mention that she is what? 15 years younger than you?"

He gave a snorted little laugh at her last comment. "Well, you are really making me want to spill my inner most secrets to you." He said sarcastically. "I hate to disappoint you, Catherine. But, I am not going to talk about my personal life and above all not my relationship with Sara." He scolded. "I'm a very private person, you know that."

"So how did Sara get in then?" She asked, her curiosity driven by a twinge of jealousy; she had, after all, known him for twenty years and never so much as gotten a date.

"She smiled at me." He said simply, remembering the first time he had seen Sara at a seminar ten years before. She had been in the front row, her brown eyes absorbing every move he made, her quick wit and sharp questions catching him off guard. He had looked her direction after a question and caught his gaze with hers, becoming mesmerized by her beautiful inquisitive eyes; and if that were not enough, she had smiled at him. Their relationship had progressed from that point and they spent hours together, discussing science and forensics and their theories on life; she was, in every aspect, brilliant. He considered her a close friend, and that feeling changed dramatically for Gil the day they'd made love; it had only happened once before he had returned to Vegas, but he knew then that he was in over his head. He had fallen in love with Sara and it scared him; it had just taken him 8 years to do something about it.

* * *

"What do you mean we're off the case?" Warrick demanded as he and Nick stood in Ecklie's office. "This has been our case since day one, and we're nearly done with our sweep of the air strip." 

Ecklie leaned back in his chair to look at the two of them. "The investigation into CSI Sidle's case has been transferred to an outside department." He said curtly. "There will be no more involvement by anyone in this lab."

"What?" Nick snapped. "We have remained objective through the whole thing; we have not compromised any evidence..."

"I said, no more involvement." Ecklie snapped back. "Now, I don't want to be bothered about this anymore. There are other cases that need concentration, and I am not open to further discussion." He leaned forward again, tapping his pencil on his desk. "All of Sidle's evidence has been transferred and her car is on its way up now."

"Where?" Warrick asked

"It's not open for discussion." Ecklie bit. "Now get out of here and get some work done."

"Can you believe that guy?" Warrick said as they left his office, heading down the hallway.

"There's somethin' goin' on, Rick." Nick replied. "Ecklie knows something."

"Hey, guys!" Greg called as they reached the elevator. "Did you hear about Sara's case?" He said breathlessly as he caught up with them. They nodded as the doors opened, and all three entered the elevator. Greg bounced nervously for a second before speaking again. "I hear that the shoe print on the vest was compromised; looks like someone had on a slip cover...but the print of the shoe was still discernible...maybe not enough for a positive match, but still discernible."

"How'd you know that?" Warrick asked

"Eavesdropping." Greg whispered. "Stood outside Ecklie's door when he was talking to someone from the other lab; that's all I heard though before Catherine made me leave."

"Well, I'm sure that whatever is goin' on, Ecklie knows all of it." Warrick said in a disbelieving tone. "He's just tryin' to keep us off the case because he has something against Sara."

"You really think so?" Greg questioned as the elevator doors opened and they stepped into the parking garage.

Nick looked up at the cameras above them. "No," he said. "I think that Ecklie knows who did it."

The others followed his gaze. "The video tape." Warrick said. "You think they got a hit off of that?"

"I know Ecklie was reviewing it." Nick replied as they made their way to his SUV so that they could all go get a bite to eat. "Did he talk to you two about your hours?"

"Yeah." Warrick responded. "Said he was doing the quarterly audit."

Nick unlocked the doors to the SUV and they climbed in. "It's too early for the audit...he just did that two months ago, guys. I'm telling you, something is going on." He started the engine, looking in the rearview mirror as he backed out. "Catherine got a print on Sara's car...we all know that, but Ecklie took her off the case before she could run it through SCOMIS and now that file is blocked to everyone here; you can't even access the SCOMIS records without a specific password."

"You still think it is someone in this lab?" Warrick asked. He heard Greg shuffle uneasily in the backseat, turning to look at him. "Sorry, man..." He said.

"I just don't understand." Greg said. "When they thought I was involved, they didn't even waste time waiting for the evidence to prove otherwise before they just threw me in the slammer and ripped me of my rights...why is this different, if they think someone here is involved?"

Nick shrugged as he pulled the SUV out of the garage, heading to their favorite diner down the road. "Maybe the person isn't in the lab right now...maybe they took off...made up an excuse to get out of there...are somehow unavailable right now."

Warrick looked at him, his eyes taking on a look of disbelief. "Hodges?"

Nick hit the brakes, bringing the SUV to a sudden stop and throwing them all forward against the restraints. "Hodges..." he repeated as the realisticness of it seeped into his head. He looked around at them. "Sara said she thought he was sleeping in his car, she thought she saw him sitting there...someone hit her from behind and it was a male...there were only three cars in the garage at the time...and his car was gone when we processed the scene..."

"No way..." Greg said. "No way...Hodges likes Sara; he wouldn't hurt her..."

"He has never brought his car back in; said it was in the shop." Warrick thought out loud. "No one ever thought to ask him about that night..."

Nick was quiet, going over the events of that night in his head; what he remembered from the surveillance video. "These people...they carried Sara out...over his shoulder...he kept his head down, so you couldn't see his face...hood up over his head..." He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Hodges came into the garage about 25 minutes later...got in his car, and left..."

Greg was looking back and forth between the two of them with a look of utter disgust. "Come on, guys." He pleaded. "It's Hodges...Hodges likes Sara...he says she's the nicest person in the whole damn place, the only one who talks to him like he is human and not an annoying little annelid on the sole of her shoe...there is no way he did this."

"Where is he now?" Warrick questioned him.

Greg sat, dumbstruck momentarily. "Family emergency...Grandma died."

"Greg," Nick said as he turned around to pull the SUV back onto the road. "Hodges's only Grandma died four years ago."


	19. Chapter 19

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine**

Gil arrived home just after 7 AM to the smell of pancakes and eggs. Putting his keys on the door side table, he made his way towards the kitchen where Sara was busily preparing them breakfast. She had one crutch under her left arm as she flipped the pancakes, and the table was set with a fruit tray, juice and a carafe of coffee. She turned to smile at him as he came in and he felt his heart flip flop at the sight. "Hi, handsome." She greeted as he came over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her neck.

"You smell wonderful..." he breathed into her hair, the smell of lavender and vanilla filling his senses along with the wonderful aroma of pancakes.

I..." she said in her slow drawl. "...am making breakfast. Are you hungry?"

"You wouldn't believe..." He growled longingly, kissing her neck again.

Sara laughed, pushing him away. "You are distracting me." She giggled as she put the pancakes on a plate and handing them to him. "Put these on the table." She ordered. "We'll feed your stomach before we feed the rest of you." She winked at him as he grinned sheepishly, putting the plate on the table before grabbing some syrup.

Sara hopped over, balancing a plate of steaming scrambled eggs as she supported herself with the one crutch. "How was your night?" She asked as she set the plate down, taking a seat as he joined her.

"Long." He sighed as he began dishing himself breakfast. "This looks absolutely wonderful, Sara...I could get used to this."

"Me too." She said as she took a bite full of pancake. They ate while discussing Gil's case, the interesting 'catch' he'd made (Sara, unlike Catherine, was enthralled with his entomological stories) and their plans for the upcoming weekend. Gil loved this time; coming home to Sara and sharing his evening, noting with regard how intently she listened to him, the genuine interest she showed in his entire day. It made him feel good; made him feel loved. He would not trade the time they spent like this for any other single thing in the universe. He knew deep down, that he was going to marry her; there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he would spend the rest of his life with this woman. He still could not believe that he almost walked away; that he had nearly convinced himself that he could actually live apart from her. He knew, sitting here like this, laughing and talking over breakfast, that life with Sara was perfect and life without her was nothing.

They finished eating, cleaning up together before Gil could not take it anymore. He grabbed Sara, kissing her desperately before picking her up and carrying her to their bedroom, intent on satisfying his other hunger. Every time they made love, he was overcome by an overwhelming feeling of powerfully aggressive passion; it was one of the only areas where he allowed himself the freedom to lose control. He became completely submersed in her and she fed the hunger, responding with a heated passion of her own. They fell into sleep after, locked in each others arms for a few hours before Gil awoke, heading for the shower. Sara had wanted to go looking for a new car since her car had been officially 'confiscated' and she had no idea when it would be returned, or what shape it would be in when it was. Plus, she claimed the smell of bleach made her ill.

They left the house shortly after 2 PM, heading down to the local Honda dealer where Sara had picked out one of the hybrid models to test drive. By 4 PM, she had made the deal on a new car, fully loaded, for over $4000 off the MSRP. They decided to have dinner after, and Sara insisted that they drive her new car down to the Italian restaurant.

As they sat enjoying dinner, Sara absently pushed her Alfredo noodles around on her plate, glancing up at Gil. He looked quite dashing; dressed in a black long sleeved shirt, buttoned just up to the silver chain she had bought him last Christmas and a pair of jeans that Sara insisted he wear because "they make your butt look nice." She watched him a moment before speaking. "Sweetheart?" He looked up at her, raising his eyebrow in response. "Uhm...I talked to Ecklie..."

He nodded. "About returning next week..."

She shook her head. "No...well, yes...but, also about other things." She watched him as he studied her face, trying to read him. "He...said that you were having some difficulties at work?"

He didn't respond at first, looking down at his plate before putting his napkin next to it. He sighed, looking back up at her. He had no idea where to begin, what to say, or even how to say it. '_You have to promise me that no matter what, you will talk to me'_ Her words echoed in his head '_because I promise you, I will always listen'_ He opened his mouth to talk, but no sound emerged. Finally, he began to speak. "You remember the day that I left?"

She nodded, how could she forget? "Well," he continued. "I was pretty drunk...I even stopped to pick up another bottle of Scotch." He saw the look on her face and faltered, but forged ahead. "I wrecked my work rig...ran it off a road into a tree..." Sara's mouth was open as she stared at him, her eyes a mixture of concern and something that looked almost like humor.

"You _what_?" She asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," He breathed. "I was arrested, booked into jail up in Pioche; they released me when I paid the fine and Catherine came to get me...that is when I heard about...about you..." he stopped; damn this was hard. "Sara...I don't know what happened. I don't know what I was thinking...I wasn't thinking, I guess." She was staring at him and he was getting nervous. "Are you disappointed with me?"

She continued staring at him, finally shaking her head softly. "No, Gil." She said quietly, reaching out to take his hand. "This entire episode has been awful for both of us, and you are only human...bound to break sometime. I am just thankful you are alright. You could have been killed... you could have killed someone else, Sweetheart..." She squeezed his hand. "So, what are they going to do about it?"

"Well, I can keep my license, but I am on probation for a full year." He replied. "I went up to the court hearing while you were still in the hospital. I didn't want to tell you until you were fully recovered; you had enough to deal with."

"Hmmm..." She said thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I can drive you to your SPEA sessions in my new car." She smiled at him. "Is that everything?"

"That, and I attacked Ecklie." Sara had just taken a drink of her tea and choked, coughing on the liquid as she tried to swallow it. He watched her with amusement for a moment as she gained control.

"You attacked him?" She was almost laughing, looking at him incredulously.

"Uh-huh." He joined her laugh. "He called you a dysfunctional society reject...I completely lost it."

She was smiling broadly now, shaking her head as she looked at him. "Oh my God, Gil...what have I done to you?"

"I don't know." He responded with a laugh, picking up his fork again. "But, I like it."

* * *

Natalie Davis sat in the visitor's center, gently rocking her doll back and forth. She was having visitors today and she thought it would be her friend; she had been a good girl, she had not talked to anyone. The door opened and she looked up, fear surging through her as she saw her. _HER_

Natalie looked around her, the sense of panic strong. She was here to take her doll, she was going to take it like she took the last one and she was going to go away, far away. Natalie tried to stand up, but the guard behind her pushed her shoulder down. She hung her head as the woman came over to her, using crutches to make her way across the room.

Sara stood over Natalie, looking down at her with mixed emotions. Gil waited for her outside, nervously agreeing to this visit last minute. Sara insisted that she go in alone, not wanting to scare Natalie and he had reluctantly conceded. Now, as Sara stared at the other woman, she tried desperately to remember who she was.

"Natalie," She said quietly, not wanting to spook her. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're her..." Natalie spat out, rocking the doll back and forth. "Her, her, her."

Sara swallowed hard. "My name is Sara, Natalie." She replied. "I used to live with you."

Natalie stopped rocking the doll, looking up at Sara. Her eyes were a mixture of sorrow and madness and Sara felt herself immediately feeling compassion for her. "You never saw me." She said in a tiny voice.

Sara shook her head. "No, I didn't." She sat across from Natalie, taking in her features. Her long hair hung around her face, disheveled against her forehead. "Did you see me?"

Natalie nodded. "They thought you were perfect." She said. "So smart...so pretty...so talented...nobody saw me...nobody cared."

Sara stared at her, feeling the same sensations she used to feel while she was a girl in foster care; it was awful. "They didn't think I was pretty or perfect or talented. They sent me away...a lot..." Sara smiled a little at her. "I was different. I would hide...in the closet."

Natalie's eyes grew wide and Sara knew she had hit a chord, unlocking a door. "Why?"

Sara shrugged. "Because I was alone." She answered. "And nobody loved me...my mom, she is in a place like this, in California...if I hid from them, they wouldn't ask me and I could forget...forget everything and be alone..."

"When you're alone, no one asks you any questions." Natalie said as though she were a little girl who had just finished a jig saw puzzle. "And they don't look at you."

Sara nodded again. "I think that you and I have a lot in common, Natalie." She said.

Natalie was studying her, looking at her hair, her hands, her legs, her eyes lingering on the crutches. "My friend said you would get out." She said. "He said you were strong...you could get out and you wouldn't be killed. He said so."

"I almost didn't get out." Sara said. "It rained...a lot...my friends had to get me out."

Natalie's eyes were full of fascination as she watched Sara. "Did he find you?" She asked quietly.

Sara stared back before nodding. "He did, Natalie. He found me."

"He's good at puzzles." She said excitedly. "He always finds them, but he can't always find out who made them... I made them."

"I know...they are great, too, Natalie." Sara said back, fascinated at Natalie's innocent ignorance over what her models meant. "He keeps them, all of them...you are very smart."

Natalie's smile beamed before she tucked her head again, hugging the doll. "You took the doll." She said suddenly, retreating back into a shell.

"I didn't know that I did, Natalie." Sara said soothingly. "I think that they gave it to me so that I wouldn't be alone anymore...I didn't know that it would leave you alone."

"I am always alone." Natalie squeezed the doll tightly. "I can't talk to you anymore...he'll take my doll."

Sara wanted to ask who, but knew that Natalie did not like questions. "He can't take it if you don't let him." She told her, keeping her tone soft as if she were speaking to a very small child. "Look around, Natalie...these guards wont let him take it. I bet if he tries, you can scream really loud and they will chase him away."

Natalie looked up at her again, the pleasure on her face telling Sara that Natalie was trusting her. "I could kick, too. I bet I could kick hard."

Sara smiled. "I bet you can...and then he'll run and he wont take the doll. It's your doll."

"Do you have a doll?" Natalie asked.

Sara shook her head. "No...I gave the doll back a few years ago. I wasn't alone anymore, I didn't need it...you know, when I was a small girl I never had a doll. My dad always said it would make me weak."

"But you are not weak." Natalie affirmed, shaking her head. "You are strong..."

Sara looked around the room, the guards watching them closely; she knew that everything was being carefully observed, in the event that Natalie mentioned a name. Sara wasn't there to get Natalie to confess or give up any information, she was there to make them both feel better and that is all she cared about. She looked back at Natalie, who had released the death grip on the doll. "She needs some clothes." Sara said

Natalie looked down. "I don't have any...this is all she has."

"I can bring you some." Sara offered. "It will be fun, I never got to buy doll clothes before."

Natalie bounced up and down on her chair. "Not pink...no pink...we don't like pink."

Sara laughed. "I don't either."

"I didn't kill her." Natalie said suddenly, pleading with her eyes for Sara to believe her. "My dad said I did... he said I pushed her...I never pushed her..." She was rocking again, holding the doll close. "She jumped down, she said _'watch this trick'_ and she jumped...my dad blamed me...he sent me away...but I didn't kill her." She was imploring Sara with her eyes.

Sara reached out, very gently touching Natalie's hand. She fully expected the girl to pull away, but she did not, allowing the moment of human contact. "I believe you, Natalie." She said.

At that, Natalie's eyes grew even wider as she stared into Sara's. "I didn't kill anyone." She said. "I just made the models...I would pick the puzzle piece...my friend would tell me when they were ready...and I would go and make the model for Mr. Grissom to find...but I never killed anybody..." She hugged the doll. "It was only a game...they are all dolls."

Sara opened her mouth to say something, but the guard indicated that her time was up. She squeezed Natalie's hand as she stood up. "I have to go, Natalie. My time is up. But, I would very much like to come back and visit you again...is that alright?"

Natalie nodded, happiness washing over her again. "Will you bring clothes?"

"Yes, I will..." Sara said. "It was very nice to meet you, Natalie." She made her way to the door and just as she was about to go out, Natalie called out to her.

"Sara..." She called. Sara turned to look at her, the girl's eyes full of sincerity. "I am sorry about the car."

Sara nodded. "Thank you, Natalie." She responded unreservedly. "And I am sorry about the doll." She smiled at the girl before leaving, letting the door swing shut as she left.

* * *

David Hodges sat in his car outside the parking lot of the lab, gripping the steering wheel as he watched Gil Grissom pull his car into the overhead. He felt sick; actual physical illness. He had managed to call in for the last week and a half, claiming a family emergency. Conveniently, his grandmother had passed away…again.

The sound of a horn suddenly jolted him out of his frozen stance and he glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing a night shift lab assistant behind him, arms up in a puzzled _'What the hell are you doing?' _gesture. Feeling his stomach tighten, David pulled into the garage, taking his usual spot across the way from where Grissom parked his jet black Altima. Curiosity caught David as he wondered why his boss had driven his personal car; he rarely ever drove anything besides his assigned company SUV.

Watching in his rearview mirror as Grissom climbed out of the car, David noticed the black necklace hanging from the rearview mirror: Sara's. Suddenly, his stomach hurt even worse. He still could not believe that the man had the audacity to involve Sara Sidle in the entire thing; why he had to bring her into it, get involved, point her out. It angered David and he fully blamed his boss for everything that had happened to Sara. If Grissom had kept his hands off of her, none of this would have ever happened. Of all the women in Vegas, Grissom had to pick Sara; it made him sick.

As David made his way into the lab, he avoided every pair of eyes he saw. He knew they would have questions; always questions. He didn't want to talk to anyone, did not want to answer any questions, and especially didn't want to have to talk to---

"Hello, David." Grissom's voice stabbed him like a knife in the back. Turning slowly, David put on his best smile as he saw Grissom behind him, returning a smile of his own.

"Grissom." He said, colder than he had planned.

"I am very sorry to hear about your Grandmother." Grissom said as he pulled his mail out of the box. "Death is never an easy experience; even though we deal with it every day."

'_Why the hell are you being so nice to me?'_ David questioned in his mind, grabbing his own mail. "Yeah…" he said quietly, pretending to become absorbed in a magazine.

"Well," Grissom put a friendly hand on his shoulder, sending a cold chill down David's body. "If you need anything at all, let me know." He walked off, leaving David shaking as the sweat began to bead up on his forehead.

"Oh, and David," Grissom called from the doorway. David turned slowly, looking at him as his ears rang. "If you need another night off, I am sure we can work it out." He offered a small, sympathetic smile before leaving the room.

David stood, feeling the anger boil inside of him. He gave out a growl as he threw his mail in the garbage, storming from the room to hide in the laboratory, where he could get absorbed in his work. He pulled out the list of assignments that needed ran that evening, and was just getting started on Warrick's case when he realized he'd forgotten to clock in.

Heading back down the hallway, he saw the elevator doors open as Jim Brass stepped off, followed closely by two uniformed officers. David froze, watching as they stopped to discuss something. Jim motioned towards David and the two officers nodded, walking towards him. Turning abruptly, David walked quickly down the hallway, hearing footsteps behind him. As he was about to push his way out the door to the stairs, a hand grabbed his shoulder. "David Hodges," the voice said as David froze. "We need to ask you a few questions."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine**

Hodges was escorted down the hallway, an officer on either side of him. His throat felt constricted and he was rapidly trying to come up with a plan to get himself out of the situation. No one knew; they couldn't know…. could they? His mind raced through the events of the last month, the evidence, the bleach…. he was very thorough, he knew he was…. but the shoe print….what about the shoe print?

As they went by Gil Grissom's office, he was just heading out the door, papers in hand. He stopped abruptly as the officers led Hodges by, the look on his face going from curiosity, to confusion, to intense sharpness. "Hey," He called out to Brass as the officers walked by. "What is going on?"

Brass eyed Hodges coolly as he went by him, walking over to Gil. "Standard procedure, Gil." He lied. "Hodges is the only one we haven't spoken to about Sara's disappearance." He shrugged, hoping Gil was buying his line. "You know how we have to question the entire lab."

Gil was looking at him so intensely that Brass knew he hadn't bought it. "I didn't have police escort." He accused.

"New policy Ecklie demanded." Brass lied again. "Same as he took everyone off the case, I guess." He started to walk away, needing to get away from Gil before things got out of control.

"What is it you're not telling me, Jim?" Gil called after him. Brass simply waved a hand at him as he walked, refusing to turn around until he stepped into the elevator. As the doors to the elevator closed, he looked at his friend; seeing the intense look replaced by something else; anger

* * *

"Why don't you tell us what you do know." Brass snapped as he sat across the table from Hodges. They had barely gotten in the door when the man had started rambling on about his grandmother and Sara and how he didn't know anything. Brass wasn't buying any of it.

Hodges looked at him, his hands splayed out on the table in a _'I don't know what you're talking about'_ gesture. "What exactly are you asking?" He responded coolly.

"Grandma's service go okay?" Brass asked. "She stay in the ground this time?"

Hodges eyed him with incredulity. "Wh-what?"

Brass smiled. "Come on, Hodges….we both know your granny died a few years ago. Convenient she'd die again as the heat got turned up."

"I had two Grandmothers." Hodges tried to sound upset, hoping that the act would pass. One look at Jim Brass told him it had not.

Detective Lambert leaned across the table to meet Hodges's at eye level. "What were you doing in the lab the evening of CSI Sidle's kidnapping?"

Hodges shrugged. "Working, what else?"

"You weren't scheduled." Lambert said, tossing a copy of the schedule to him. Hodges picked it up and glanced at it, tossing it back nonchalantly.

"I was called in." He said. "Sara…needed help. She called me about a case she was working on…."

"Funny she never mentioned it." Lambert replied.

Hodges looked at him, an odd expression covering his face. "There are a lot of things that Sara never mentioned." He snapped. _'Cool it, David'_ He told himself, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Would you like to clue us in, seeing as you know so much." Brass prodded.

"Maybe you should talk to Grissom." Hodges responded. "He's the one who drug her into the mess... you ever think maybe he's the guilty one?

Brass glared at him. "No. I'm pretty sure we got the guy."

Hodges glared back at him, slowly clenching and unclenching his fist. "Am I under arrest here?" He asked. "Cause if I'm not, I'm out'a here. I know what you did to Greg and you are not going to do the same thing to me."

"Nah," Brass said, the same coy smile on his face. "We're just talkin' here, David…that's all….just talkin'" He was playing with a paperclip, refusing to break his eye contact with the other man.

Hodges glared at him, wishing he had a knife to slash his throat with. "If you really want to know what happened to Sara," He said coldly. "Maybe you should ask the man who's sleeping with her."

Brass chuckled, opening a file to show David a photo. "Recognize these?" He asked as he passed the photo to him.

David's face turned white as he stared at the photo; it was his raincoat, the one he'd discarded in the desert the day he'd doused Sara's evidence with bleach. His ears began to ring and he felt sick; he had to get out of there, they had to let him go….he wasn't ready to face this…they had to let him go. "Well…they…" he stammered. _'Snap out of it, David!'_ "Someone's rain gear?"

"_You're_ raingear." Lambert said, tossing another file at him, it contained a print out of the SCOMIS record from Sara's car. "Your prints were all over them, as they were all over CSI Sidle's car, Hodges….and the bleach containers…."

"Someone planted it, then." David was trying to show more confidence then he felt, but he knew he was sounding like a desperate man. "Just like they did to Greg…."

"Oh, well there's the cincher." Brass said, his grin becoming menacing. "The only person seen going into the janitorial closet the night of Sara's kidnapping was you…and the only thing you brought out was garbage bags...coincidence?"

"All of this is circumstantial." Hodges was grabbing for straws, reaching for the lifeboat from twenty feet away. "It could be planted…anyone here…"

"We got your car, David." Brass's voice had become deep and threatening, he'd grown weary of the little game; David Hodges made him sick. "Found it over in the old waste disposal yard, covered up in garbage." He glared at Hodges, seeing the desperation in his eyes, the sweat bead up on his forehead. "The trunk was full of Sara's blood, David. How's that make you feel, huh, Buddy?" He spat out. "She nearly bled to death in the back of your car...what'd she do? Scream too loud? No? Must have made you another plate of her homemade cookies she was always bringing you? Weren't quite the right flavor so you thought you'd crush her to death?"

David stared at him, his mouth opened, looking as though he was about to bolt. Brass leaned forward angrily. "You were on the video tape in the garage." He spat. "You hit Sara from behind, you carried her outside…how could you do that, Man?" His voice was rising, his anger level heating as he continued. "You were her friend…_her friend_…. Sara loves you, she _trusts_ you! How many times did you have to hit her before she passed out? How any swings did it take to make her bleed?" His voice was getting louder, his anger reaching its limit. "How could you put her under that car? How could you leave her there, listening to her scream? Knowing she could drown on her own blood..._How could you do that_!?"

Hodges froze, the ringing in his ears becoming a roar. "I want an attorney." He demanded. "You can't sit here and…"

Suddenly, the door to the interrogation room flew open and Gil was on top of Hodges before anyone in the room could react. _"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" _He roared as he physically lifted Hodges out of the chair by his shirt, throwing him with such force that he hit the wall with a sickening thud. He had no time to recover before Gil had him again, hitting him so hard that he shattered his nose, causing his head to bounce off the wall before he hit the ground, leaving a blood smear in the imprint his skull had left.

Lambert was up, grabbing Gil and trying to pull him back. The rage within Gil was boiling and Lambert was no match for him, being thrown down himself as Gil kicked Hodges square in the jaw as he attempted to stand up. Hodges fell to the floor and Gil grabbed him, wrapping his hands around the man's neck, _"You tried to kill her!!" _He seethed, banging Hodges against the floor. He was squeezing the air out of him, pounding his head on the floor the entire time.

The door flew open again and two officers grabbed Gil, yanking him forcefully off of Hodges as the other man gasped for breath, blood gushing from his nose and his head. Detective Lambert pointed at Hodges. "Get him a doctor." He said as other officers rushed in. "And then get him the hell out of here."

Brass looked over at Gil. He was breathing heavily, blood covering his shirt, his hands and his face as he shook violently. "Get him out of this room." He told the other officers, who pushed Gil out of the interrogation room.

Gil looked at Brass, the rage still evident as tears of anger filled his eyes. As soon as he was out of the room, he yanked away from the officers, walking angrily away and slamming a fist into the door on his way out. He would have killed Hodges if the officers hadn't come in, and Brass just thought he might have let him go ahead and do it.

Gil stormed down the hallway, his head bent forward slightly, blood covering his body as the sweat trickled down his face. Catherine and Warrick were just stepping out of the elevator when they saw him coming, stopping in their tracks as he approached them "Gil?" Catherine called out, alarmed. "Gil, what the hell…"

He marched past them, not even noticing their presence as he went into the locker room. They exchanged a glance and went in after him, fear dictating their movements. He was at the sink, his hands under the running water as he stared at himself in the mirror.

They slowly made his way to him, observing the blood that covered his face, his arms, and even his hair. "Hey, Griss." Warrick said quietly. "You okay, man?"

Gil's body began to shake as he cried, watching the blood go down the drain. "I have to go home." He said in a quavering voice. "I have to see Sara…I have to go home."

Catherine watched him, realizing he was in shock. "Gil, what happened to you?"

"Sara trusted him." Gil said, still watching as the blood flowed off of his skin and down the drain. "She trusted him…" He looked up at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes lowering back down. "I have to see Sara."

"Griss?" Warrick stepped forward again as Gil finally acknowledged them. "What happened?"

The door flew open and Greg rushed in, "They're taking Hodges to the emergency..." He said in a rushed voice, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Gil. "Oh, man…"

Catherine looked at Greg and Warrick before turning back to Gil. "Hodges?"

Gil suddenly bolted from the room, the water still washing red liquid down the pipes.

* * *

Sara was sleeping soundly when she heard Bruno growl slightly, the growl turning into an excited whimper as he hopped off the bed. She glanced at the clock; it was just past midnight. Gil shouldn't be home this early...but perhaps he forgot something. She was about to get up and follow the dog when Gil came into the room, his figure illuminated by the hallway lamp.

"Sweetheart, what are you..." She began when he suddenly rushed to her, grabbing her with such force that it nearly knocked the wind out of her. He pulled her to him, whispering her name as he held her tight, his body quaking as he began to rock them back and forth.

"Oh, My God, Sara..." He was crying, repeating her name as if she were a dream and he had to continually convince himself that she was real.

"Sweetheart..." She was getting scared; something had happened, something bad. "Gil? Honey..." Her arms wrapped around him, holding him close as he shook, his head buried in her hair.

"Sara..." He cried. "Oh, Sara...I'm so sorry, Sara..." He held her, kissing her hair, her cheek, her forehead before pulling her against him again. "I love you...God, I love you Sara..."

"Gil, please." She pleaded, feeling her own eyes fill with tears, not understanding what had happened to make him so distraught. "You're scaring me...what is wrong?"

"I wanted to kill him, Sara." He was nearly sobbing, his entire body shaking brutally. "I almost killed him..."

"Gil." She said firmly, pushing back a little to try and see his face. She smoothed a hand over his chin, stopping when she felt a familiar sticky substance; blood. "Oh, my God Gil...you're hurt...what-"

"No, Sara..." He refused to release his hold on her, pulling her back in. "Please, please just let me hold you. Just let me hold you. Please."

"But you're bleeding, Baby." She said, tears falling out of her eyes.

He shook his head against her. "No...no, I'm not bleeding...it isn't my blood, Sara..."

Sara's heart froze. She finally pulled away, pushing him back so that she could reach out and turn on the bedside light. What she saw caused her mouth to drop; his face was splattered with blood and the blood on his shirt was drying into a large puddle. "Oh, Gil..." she breathed. "Oh, baby...what did you do? What did you do, Gil?"

He looked at her, his eyes full of despair. His mouth trembled as he looked at her, absorbing her into his memory. He opened his mouth to speak when the phone rang. Sara looked over at it, noting on the caller ID that it was Catherine. She glanced at him quickly before grabbing the phone. "Yeah..." She said as Gil wiped his eyes with his hand, looking down at the blood the action left on his palm in an amazed disbelief.

"Sara..." Catherine's voice was breathless. "Did Gil make it there?"

Sara looked at Gil as he stood up, numbly walking towards their bathroom, staring down at his hand the entire way. "Yeah..."

"Oh, Thank God..." Catherine sighed.

"What happened, Catherine?" Sara asked, watching as Gil stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a pile as he turned on the shower, putting one hand in and then the other, looking at them as though he were hypnotized.

"We know who else was involved in your kidnapping." Catherine said. "Gil got to him before Brass had a chance to finish the questioning... he nearly killed him, Sara."

Sara sat stunned as Gil finally climbed into the shower and closed the curtain, letting the water wash over him. "Who?"

She heard Catherine's voice catch before she replied. "We're coming over there, okay?"

Sara nodded, even though she knew Catherine couldn't hear her. "Uh huh..." She hung up, an overwhelming sense of panic surging through her body as she realized that it must have been someone she knew who had done this. She looked down at her nightshirt, seeing the blood of her attacker transferred from Gil. She suddenly felt ill, rushing from the bed without bothering with her crutches to fall to the floor, vomiting into the garbage can as again she wished that she could just forget everything.


	21. Chapter 21

By the time that Catherine and the others arrived at the townhouse, Sara had managed to clean herself up and deal with the mess in the garbage can. She had taken a shower in the guest bathroom, letting the water run over her as she cleared her mind, thinking about every single thing that had happened. Maybe it was time for her to stop running and take a stand, to make a decision, even if it was something she did not want to do. Changing into a pair of sweats and a tank top, she pulled her hair into a pony tail before making her way back towards their bedroom.

As she went in to collect Gil's clothes from the bathroom floor, she heard him from behind her. "We'll need to keep those." He said dejectedly as he sat on the bed, staring at the floor. "For evidence."

She turned to look at him, deciding to leave the clothes on the floor, pushing them aside with her right foot. "Catherine and the guys are on their way over." She told him. "Do you want to tell me?"

He shook his head. "Not alone." Looking up at her, he saw the concern in her eyes. "Come here, Sara." She complied, sitting next to him as he put his arms around her, kissing her forehead. "Things are going to get pretty rough... our life is about to become very complicated. I just want you to know how very sorry I am; that there are some things out there that I am powerless to protect you from...like everything you are going to hear tonight."

"You really scared me, you know." She told him, pulling away to look at him and study his eyes. "I'm worried about you, Griss...You're not acting yourself... You're doing things that are harmful... You almost killed someone." She was searching his features, her brown eyes filled with emotion. "Something's happening to you, Gil, I'm not sure what, but I just think maybe..." she swallowed hard as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Maybe this relationship..." she shook her head, motioning with her hand back and forth between the two of them, looking away as she tried to gain control of her voice before saying unsteadily, "Maybe we should end this...before you throw everything away."

"Sara..." He reached for her as the doorbell rang and she was up, grabbing her crutch as she left the room to let the others in. Gil sat as he heard voices in the living room, heard Catherine ask where he was and he just wished he could be sucked into a crack in the hardwood floor, pulled far away from this to a world where none of it ever happened.

In the other room, Sara greeted their friends with a nervous smile. Offering them a seat before going to the kitchen to make some coffee. As she filled the pot full of water, her eyes glanced the framed photo in the kitchen window, it was of her and Gil at Lake Mead a few months before. They were standing along the water, arms wrapped around each other as Sara held up the fish she'd caught. She smiled as she remembered the day; the fish was barely legal and she had almost fallen off the dock trying to reel it in, finally feeling sorry for it after the photo was taken to release it back into the water.

"Need some help?" She jumped as Nick entered the kitchen, eyeing her cautiously. She looked over at him as the tears poured out, covering her face with both hands as he pulled her to him. He let her cry for a few moments, rubbing her back. "This will all be over soon, Sweety." He said.

She nodded, pulling back and grabbing a napkin to wipe her eyes as Nick watched her. "Can you grab the coffee?" She sniffed as she finished filling the pot. He helped her finish the coffee, getting cups and a carafe out to bring everything into the front room. They didn't talk, letting the knowing silence of the situation guide them through the movements.

Finally, Sara spoke. "You think that your folks would mind if I went and spent a couple weeks with them?"

He was putting some juice on a tray and stopped, looking over at her. "My folks love you..." he answered, a puzzled look on his face. He and Sara had actually spent a few weekends and even a Thanksgiving at his parents' home in Texas; they adored her and scolded him regularly for not making her "his girl". "They'd be thrilled to have you...but, Sara...what's goin' on?"

She added a set of napkins to the tray he had, responding simply. "I just need to get away for awhile, and I think Gil needs some time to sort out everything."

Nick's jaw locked. "He's sending you away?"

"No...no, Nick... He doesn't know I'm thinking about this. This isn't his idea, it's mine." She sighed. "And honestly...I just came up with it, so please don't tell anyone."

He nodded. "Okay. Just let me know when and I'll call Mom; you know she is going to go hog wild...she's going to fuss over you like a kitten." He followed her into the living room where the others were waiting, talking quietly as they entered. He looked over at Gil, who looked miserable and lost as he watched Sara enter the room. Nick knew that Sara's leaving, even if only for a few weeks, was going to tear him apart.

He set the tray down, sitting next to Catherine as Sara sat next to Gil, his arm instinctively falling around her shoulders protectively. Sara scanned their faces, nearly everyone was there and it made the panic in her even worse. Warrick was pouring coffee for them and Greg handed out cups, Gil being the only to decline the offer.

"Well," Catherine finally broke the awkward silence as she offered Sara a small grin. "You know we're not here for good news." She said, looking at Gil. "You haven't told her anything?"

He shook his head, glancing at Sara, who was trying desperately not to look at him. "Okay..." Catherine continued. "Sara...you know how..."She took a deep breath, wondering how the guys conned her into being the one to deliver the news. "You know how you thought you saw Hodges sleeping in his car the night you were kidnapped?"

"Uh-huh..." Sara responded in a far away voice. She distinctively pressed herself closer to Gil, he squeezed her shoulder as she did so, reaching down to clasp her other hand that was lying in his lap.

Gil looked at Catherine, seeing how hard she was struggling with the reality of David Hodges's involvement, let alone having to tell Sara about it. "Honey..." He said, removing his arm from around her to join his other hand around her own. "This is not going to be easy to hear..."

"Then don't tell me." She said suddenly. "Just don't tell me...I don't want to hear it, I don't want to know. Just don't tell me."

"You have to know, Sara." Warrick said softly. "You are going to be asked a lot of questions about this and it is better that you hear it from us...your friends...then from someone else."

"But, you're going to tell me it is someone I know." She accused. "Someone... Like Greg," She motioned at him. "When they thought he did it, and he didn't do it...someone set him up." She shook her head as she looked at Greg. "No one I know would do this, there isn't anyone I can think of and if you're all trying to tell me that Hodges is involved..."

"Hodges _was_ involved." Gil told her more firmly than he had anticipated. She recoiled, looking at him with disgust momentarily.

"Hodges??" She shot out. "Hodges?" She looked at all of them, a look of extreme distrust in her eyes. "No way...noooooo way..." She was shaking her head. "You're just saying that because none of you like him; because he's different. Because he isn't like you...but, he wouldn't do this. He didn't do this..."

"Sara," Catherine said. "They have him on video tape...they found your blood in the trunk of his car..." Sara was shaking her head, having recoiled completely from Gil.

"That was Hodges's blood?" She spat out at him, her eyes wide. "You almost killed Hodges?"

"He tried to kill you, Sara..." He nearly pleaded, trying to reach her hand as she jumped back away from him, looking at him as though he were a murderer.

"Sweety, listen..." Nick begged. "He's on the video tape...I know this is hard, but listen, Sara, please..."

"No..." she was shaking her head, still staring at Gil.

"He hit you from behind with a heavy flashlight." Catherine pressed, knowing they had to tell her, to make her believe them. Greg was up, pacing the room hating seeing Sara being tortured like this. "He picked you up, put you in his trunk...he put you under that car, Sara and he left you there...his prints are all over the evidence..."

"_SHUT UP!" _Sara screamed at her suddenly. _"SHUT UP, CATHERINE!"_ She shot up off the couch, ignoring her crutches and the brutal pain in her leg as it protested the move. _"HE DIDN'T DO THIS!! HE DIDN'T DO THIS!"_ She backed away from the couch, her leg threatening to give out on her as she did. She didn't care; she had to get out of there, had to get away from all of them. This was not true; she didn't know why they would lie to her, why they would blame Hodges, but this wasn't true.

"Sara...Honey..." Gil was up, trying to reach for her.

"_LEAVE ME ALONE!" _She screamed, actually taking a swing at him with her arm, missing him by mere inches. _"This is your fault!_" She began sobbing, backing away more as she fell into the end table, supporting herself with her arm as coffee cups fell to the floor, shattering brutally as coffee splattered everywhere._ "You always treated him bad...you were always so cruel to him...why did you have to be so mean to him?"_

Bruno was by her side, standing protectively between her and Gil, unsure which of his owners he needed to protect the most. "Sara, please..." He begged as she recoiled even further.

Greg couldn't take it anymore, rushing over to Sara. "Stop!" He yelled. "Everyone just stop!" He was looking at Sara, "Sara please just stop...please..."

By now, everyone was standing, ready to grab her or intervene if things escalated. Sara looked from Gil to Greg, her eyes filled with an emotion close to hatred. "Just leave me alone." She said in a whisper, the vision of all of them standing around her making her heart thump madly in her chest, her fear level rising. "I want you all to just leave me alone." She backed away again, stumbling as she reached for her car keys.

Gil made a move to try and stop her, but she bolted, making it to the door before he had her arm, pulling her back. Without thinking Sara struck, slapping him across his face with enough force to snap his head back, blood trickled from his nose as she pulled away from him. _"DON'T TOUCH ME!" _She screamed as she opened the door. _"Don't you ever touch me..." _She ran out the door, limping slightly as she ran to her car, opening the door to get in as Warrick and Nick rushed out after her. She was out of the driveway, the tires squealing in protest as she put the car in drive, speeding out of sight.

* * *

Sara raced down the road, not really sure where she was going. The tears were blinding her as she drove, and she wiped them away angrily as she flew past stop signs and streetlights, making her way to the interstate before she was able to calm her nerves enough to slow the vehicle down. She took some steadying breaths, gripping the steering wheel tight as she drove, trying to figure out where she was going and what she was doing. She slowly realized that she had struck Gil; she had actually physically hurt him. The realization brought a new wave of tears and she wanted to turn the car around, to drive back to their home and hold him, telling him how sorry she was. 

She continued driving, making it 50 miles down the interstate before pulling off the road and staring into the dark horizon. Her leg was throbbing, and she silently cursed it, telling herself that running from the house without her crutches was all good therapy. She didn't know how long she sat along the road, staring out the windshield as cars flew by her before she finally pulled back out, driving to the next exit where she turned the car around, heading back towards Vegas.

An hour later, she hobbled into the hospital ward at the Las Vegas confinement center. Her leg hurt, but she thought she was doing pretty well considering. She had a spare set of crutches in her car that Gil had put in for her, and they offered some relief from the steady throbbing. She reached the reception desk, flashing her badge. "CSI Sidle." She said. "I'm here to see David Hodges."

The officer behind the desk eyed her suspiciously. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hodges is on strict prohibitive security...no one's allowed in or out."

Sara glared at him. "Anyone I can talk to about his condition?"

He nodded, picking up the phone and calling in a supervisor, telling her to take a seat. She waited a few minutes before a uniformed Lietenant came up to her, introducing himself and asking her to follow him. They came to a room with a thick plexi-glass partitioned window and Sara gasped as she saw Hodges, laying in a hospital bed, arms and legs handcuffed to the rails as he slept. His face was horribly swollen and his head completely bandaged; she had a hard time comprehending that Gil had done that much damage to him. "Is he...uhm..." she swallowed, remembering all of her training at being subjective. "Will he recover?"

The Lietenant looked at her. "For now." He responded. "Once he gets into the prison system?" He shrugged. "I don't know...prison guards don't take too kindly to someone who tries to murder a fellow Law Enforcement personnel." He stared at her a moment. "Dr. Grissom would have been doing him a favor by killing him."

"You have a lot of people out looking for you." Sara turned to see Jim Brass coming up to them, nodding at the Lietenant. "I got half my squad out patrolling the city trying to find you."

"Well, aren't you the lucky one then." She replied coldly, looking back at Hodges."Good thing you have contacts all over the damn place to keep tabs on me." She glared at the Lietenant before turning away from the window, walking past Jim as she headed for the exit.

"What do you want me to tell Gil, Sara?" He called as she pushed open the door.

She turned to look at him sadly. "Tell him I'm sorry." She said as she exited, the door swinging closed behind her.

* * *

Gil sat in the lobby of the Las Vegas court building, awaiting his departmental judicial review; his black suit feeling far too constricting in the Vegas heat. He had not seen or heard from Sara since she ran from their home the week before and he was beside himself with concern. Nick had come to the house a few days after, collecting some of her things to send to his parents' home in Texas, where Sara was staying. Nick himself had not spoken to Sara, his mother instead calling him to request Sara's things and to tell him to _'just give her some time'_. It seemed as though, to all of her friends, that Sara wanted nothing to do with any of them. Gil had tried calling her multiple times, letting the voice mail pick up just so he could hear her voice. He had left messages until her voice box was full, but she had not returned a call. 

Jim Brass came up next to him, taking a seat as they waited for Ecklie to call them in. "How're you doing, Gil?" He asked

Gil looked at him, spreading his hands in a _'I don't know'_ gesture. "I wish that Sara were here." He said as the door opened and Ecklie called them in. They went into the courtroom, the temperature much cooler than the lobby and for that Gil was relieved. Undersheriff McKeen sat at a big table along with the lab's head director Dr. Derrick Davis, two judges, and a Federal representative. Gil could feel the noose tighten around his neck as he took a seat next to Jim and across from Ecklie.

"This is the Departmental judicial disciplinary review for Doctor Gilbert James Grissom," One of the judges began, rattling off the names of everyone in attendance. "Dr. Grissom has been a member of the Las Vegas Crime Lab for..." he looked at his notes, "21 years, with no previous disciplinary issues or corrective actions noted." He looked at Ecklie, indicated it was his turn to speak.

McKeen looked at Gil, seeing the exhausted appearance of a man who had hit rock bottom. He had always respected Gil Grissom and honestly hoped that the department would side with him. He was a damn good CSI.

"Thank you, You're Honor." Ecklie began as he eyed Gil. "It is true that Dr. Grissom has been an exempliary asset to the Las Vegas crime division for many years. However, in the last month alone he has been arrested for a DUI, wrecked a company assigned vehicle while intoxicated, physically attacked me and beat a subordinate nearly to death during an interrogation." He mentioned exhibit numbers, passing them around the table for everyone to observe. Gil didn't bother looking at any of them; he knew what they were. "Luckily, CSI Hodges will make a full recovery, but the psychological damages inflicted upon him are evident, not to mention the excessive repairs necessary to fix the damage to the interrogation room."

Gil glared at Ecklie. "What about the psychological damages he infliced on CSI Sidle?" He demanded. "What about the trauma she suffered being beaten and put under a car left to die? Not to mention the fact that he deliberately tried to kill her while she was in a comatose state at the hospital by injecting her with dangerous medicinal combinations?"

The judge banged a gavel, looking at Gil. "Dr. Grissom," He cautioned. "I will ask you to keep your temper down and wait your turn."

Gil nodded, still glaring at Ecklie. Ecklie returned the look, continuing. "Dr. Grissom is suffering an elevated level of agitation over CSI Sidle due to another departmental violation." He said coolly. "Dr. Grissom is CSI Sidle's direct supervisor, he has been for several years. He is fully aware that any personal relationship between a supervisor and a subordinate must be kept strictly limited, yet for the past two years he and Sidle have been romantically, and physically, involved...unknown to the department. They currently reside together as a couple and this is in harsh violation of departmental policy"

The judges looked at Gil. "Is this true, Dr. Grissom?" One asked him as they both jotted notes on paper.

He nodded. "Yes." He said softly.

"Do you disagree with anything that Conrad Ecklie is telling us?"

"Only that David Hodges inflicted psychological damage on not only Sara, but each and every one of her co-workers as well."

"Enough to justify killing him?" The first Judge asked him, watching him intently.

Gil swallowed, looking at them. "It was never my intention to kill David Hodges." He replied. "I was acting on an impulse, a moment of temporary insanity if you will. You both saw the news, you read the papers...Your Honors have both seen the photographs of what David Hodges did to Sara Sidle. When I grabbed him, the only thing I could see was her lying under that car covered in blood."

The two judges exchanged glances, the older one looking back to him. "So, you are saying that your emotional involvement with CSI Sidle clouds your ability to remain objective?"

He nodded. "I am saying that it did, at that moment, yes."

"How can we know that will not happen again?"

_'Because she left me'_ He thought. "I have worked with CSI Sidle for seven years in the crime lab." He responded in an objective professional tone. "She and I have been involved in a relationship for two years, and during this time we have both maintained only a professional, working relationship while on duty. We have not let our relationship carry over into our responsibilities to the lab or to this city."

"Until now." Ecklie said.

Gil looked at him. "Tell me, Conrad." He said. "If it was your wife, or your daughter, that David Hodges put under that car...if you'd had to watch them suffer as Sara suffered, would you not do everything in your power...stop the world if you had to...to protect them?"

"Sidle isn't your wife, Gil." Ecklie responded. "She's your employee...and she is a handful"

McKeen shifted in his seat, leaning on the table to address the judges. "Who CSI Sidle is or isn't is not at issue here." He said. "What is at issue is Dr. Grissom's recent departmental violations. I think we can make it through this meeting, Mr. Ecklie, without turning this into a Sara-bashing episode."

"Duly noted." The judge said. "Mr. Ecklie will keep his comments about CSI Sidle to himself unless it is a direct reflection of this case."

Dr. Davis cleared his throat. "I would like to point out that other than an issue of insubordination against Conrad Ecklie himself two years ago, CSI Sidle has been an outstanding pilar of commitment to the lab with a solve rate that far surpasses any of her peers. She is a brilliant CSI and has been a dedicated employee; definitely not a handful...I do not want your own personal feelings clouding this investigation, Ecklie."

"Gil Grissom attacked a man." Ecklie pushed. "Violently...I do not see how he cannot be held accountable for those actions."

"Gil Grissom acted out of a moment of temporary insanity." Jim Brass spoke up. "He was not acting out of pre-meditation, he did not have time to consider his actions before it happened, Conrad. I know, I was there." He stopped, thinking of how Sara had just up and left him without so much as a goodbye."Besides, I think he is already suffering greatly for those actions...David Hodges had plenty of time to think of his actions before he brutally attacked Sara and left her for dead. Everyone in Las Vegas knows that."

"There will be in inquest into the attack of CSI Hodges." One of the judges said. "Whether or not Dr. Grissom faces criminal charges on that matter will be determined at that time." He looked to the federal representative. "Dr. Hennessy, your recommendation."

"Dr. Grissom," Dr. Hennessy began."Under your direction, the Las Vegas Crime lab has gone from a ranking of 14 to the number 1 lab in the country; that is pretty impressive. It is no question that you have been a dedicated representative to the people of the State of Nevada. What is at question is your ability to perform your duties given the events of just this past month, and this is what we must determine. You have not had vacation in over 12 years, indicating that you are suffering a state of burn out, exemplified by the circumstances involving CSI Sidle. It is my recommendation therefore, based on your recent conduct, that you are suspended with pay until a full inquest is completed into your actions and a process is in place for your treatment for anger and substance issues."

Gil stared him. Substance issues? Anger, he could accept, but he didn't have substance issues.

The lead judge looked around the room. "Does anyone have any objection to Mr. Henessey's recommendation?"

Gil said nothing, he knew this was going easier than he thought. Ecklie opened his mouth to say something, stopping and then continuing. "What about the relationship with CSI Sidle? Shouldn't he refrain from contact until this is complete?

Dr. Davis spoke up. "I see no reason to refrain Dr. Grissom from contact with her." He said. "Obviously, the entire event regarding her kidnapping has put both CSI Sidle and Dr. Grissom under a great deal of duress and up until that event there have been no issues with the relationship, other than that it is strictly against departmental policy."

"Noted." The judges conversed quietly for a moment. "Dr. Grissom, you are officially relieved of your duties as Supervisor for the Las Vegas Crime lab until a full investigation is completed and recommendations are brought forth about your future status at the lab. Please turn in your badge and gun to Dr. Davis and do not return to the lab until this investigation is complete. You will be paid full scale while on leave." He banged the gavel. "This meeting is adjourned."

Gil stood, dumbstruck, as Dr. Davis approached him reaching out to shake Gil's hand. "I have always had a lot of respect for you, Gil." He said. "I am very sorry it has come to this, but I guarantee that our inquest will be fair and objective...I'll be expecting you to drop off your gun and badge this afternoon."

Gil walked out, feeling numb. He had said, years before, during an interrogation of Dr. Lurie, that he was not able to sacrafice everything that he had worked for to have Sara, but he had done just that. And not only was he losing everything he had worked for, but he was also losing Sara. And Gil didn't know which hurt worse.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**I do not own CSI; the characters are not mine**

**NOTE: I am, really, trying to get to the end!! It is just that everytime I start typing, these chapters evolve and then I sit and read them and think... "Well, guess that isn't it..." But, it will end eventually...I promise. I am not overly thrilled with this chapter; I think it ties in as it shows what occurred for them both during their time apart, but it is not one of the best**

**Thanks for the reviews! Keep them coming.**

Sara awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking down stairs and the busy morning activities of the Stokes household. She glanced over at the clock to see that it was just past 7 in the morning; Thank God she had missed morning chores again. The sleeping pills she was taking knocked her out, and she was glad for that; since she had spent the first week crying herself to sleep every night. Gil had been calling her regularly and she continued to avoid his calls, turning her phone off and putting it in the night stand drawer so that she wouldn't have to face another battle with herself whenever he called.

She realized that her actions that night were driven largely by fear; she now understood how a caged animal felt just before it was killed by its captivator, because that was exactly how she had felt that night. She knew that her reaction to the situation was based out of sheer panic; not only was she hearing something that seemed entirely surreal from her friends, she had also been covered in David's blood off of Gil's body, had smoothed the man's blood off of her lover's face before understanding what had happened.

The thundering realization of David's involvement had not been easy for Sara to comprehend, and having all of her friends around her, forcing her to hear the news, had pushed her panic level beyond controllable. When Gil had grabbed her arm, she was not thinking about her actions, she lashed out as a result of feeling completely trapped and panicked, striking out as the caged animal would have struck out before it was killed. Sara had panicked, she knew that, and she regretted it. The doctors in Vegas had told her she would need to undergo therapy for post traumatic stress disorder and at first she had laughed at them; somehow it didn't seem very funny any longer.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly before throwing the covers back, climbing out of bed to hop on one foot, diligently holding her left foot off of the ground as she made up the bed. One thing that Mom Stokes did not take keenly to was an unmade bed. She showered quickly before dressing to head down to breakfast, having mastered the art of stair descending on one leg. As she hopped down the last step to balance on one crutch, Nick's father looked up from the paper and smiled at her. "'Bout time you got outta bed." He called. "I had to feed the chickens myself."

"Darn." She returned the smile. "And I was really hoping you would wake me at 4:30 again to enjoy it with you."

"Smart ass." He mumbled into his paper as she came over to him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Good morning, Cisco." She greeted, using the name that Nick and his siblings lovingly called him.

"Mornin', Sweet Pea." He replied, not looking up from his paper. Bill Stokes was a commanding man, standing just at 6 feet tall with broad shoulders and lightly graying black hair. For a man in his sixties he was till quite handsome and Sara couldn't help but imagine that Nick would look so much like him in another thirty years.

Nick's mother was busy at the sink, cutting oranges for the morning breakfast. Sara came over next to her, grabbing a cup for coffee. "Can I help?" she asked.

Jillian Stokes looked at her and shook her head. "Nope." She replied. "I think I have it." She looked at Sara, smiling at her. She had been immediately taken to Sara the first time Nick had brought her home four years ago, wishing desperately that Nick would just marry her. Jillian had since accepted, although very reluctantly, that Sara and her son would always and forever be just very good friends and nothing more. Nick's siblings adored her, calling her "Lil' Sis" and unofficially adopting her as a little sister; the affection was obvious and Sara seemed to soak it up as if she were a dried up sponge, neglected of moisture for far too many years. "You just go sit down and we'll get you some breakfast. You need to eat better if you are going to recover, you know."

Sara rolled her eyes as she brought her coffee to the table, setting it down before taking a seat next to Nick's father. Nick's family was exactly what she pictured a real family should be, and there were times she pretended as though she had grown up here with them, instead of where she had actually grown up. Nick was the youngest of 7 children and most of his siblings still lived within a 50-mile radius of the family home, Nick being the only one to move away. For all of her efforts to understand, Sara still couldn't figure out why he would want to be away from these people.

Cisco looked over at Sara as Jillian put a plate of eggs, hashbrowns, fruit and toast in front of her. "You need to eat some meat." He told her over the rim of his glasses. "Skinny girl like you needs some protein to put some meat on her bones."

Sara grabbed the jar of peanut butter and waved it at him. "That's why they have peanut butter." She replied. "Lots of protein."

He shook his head. "I don't know what they're teaching you up there in Vegas, Sweet Pea...but peanut butter is not a replacement for meat."

"Leave her alone, Bill." Jillian scolded as she took a seat next to Sara. "As long as she is eating, that is all I care about." She sipped her coffee before continuing. "Nicky called this morning to check on you; I told him you were fine. He asked that you call him sometime."

Sara finished her bite of toast, feeling her stomach flip-flop for a moment. "I will…" She said unconvincingly.

"All of your friends are worried about you." Jillian pressed. "Nick insists that you are not alright, that you are just trying to hide your way out of it."

Sara looked at her, suddenly not hungry any more; she wasn't hiding from anything. "I'll call him today." She said to placate Jillian, even though she knew she would not call him.

"Good." Jillian reached out and squeezed her hand, quiet a moment. "I bet that man of yours is just going crazy, sweetheart." She said. "You really should talk to him."

Pushing her plate away, Sara looked at the older woman. "I really do not want to talk about this, Jillian." She said softly. "Really."

Jillian pursed her lips; Sara Sidle was one of the most fiercely independent, if not stubborn, women she'd ever met. "I just hate to see you so damn miserable." She said softly. "You're white as a ghost and I can see the sadness in you're eyes; they are very expressive eyes, Sweetheart. It would make you both feel so much better if you would just talk to him."

Sara let out a deep breath, looking down at her breakfast. The sight of food suddenly made her feel ill and she knew she would feed the entire plate to the family dog. Jillian patted her hand, standing up. "I am sorry to bug you about it, Sar...but I can't keep comin' up with excuses for why you wont speak to him when he calls for you; you are breakin' his heart. I just think its time for you to do this; if you love him, you'll talk to him. If you don't, you need to tell him so he can move on. You at least owe him that." She left the room to get dressed, leaving Sara and Cisco sitting quietly.

He looked over at her. "You gonna eat that breakfast?" When she shook her head, he put the paper down and removed his glasses. "Well, come on then." He ordered as he stood up. "I gotta feed the horses before I go into work, and you look like you could use a walk."

As they walked towards the stalls, Cisco glanced at her seriously. "You know, Sweet Pea," He began. "Jillian and I have been married for a very long time; long before you were even a twinkle in your Mommy's eye..." He smiled at her a little as he continued. "And you know, not a day goes by that I don't thank the Good Lord that I have her to share my life with, and every single year on our anniversary I feel as though I am celebrating our very first one all over again...I love my wife more than anything, and as long as I have her in my life I am a happy man, no matter what the world throws my way. I would not trade a single moment of my time with her for all the money in Las Vegas."

They reached the stalls and he opened the gate, letting Sara go through before closing it behind them before continuing. "You only find one person in the entire universe that is made for you; only one person you can spend your life with and never even want for anyone else. Jillian is my one person, and for you, I think that person is your Gilbert..."

She looked away from him, feeling the tears stinging her eyes again. God, she hated crying. "Here, sit..." he said as he motioned to the bench next to the first few stalls. She sat and he took a seat beside her. "Sweet Pea," he continued. "Look at me." She turned her head slowly and met his eyes, seeing in them the genuine love and concern of a father. He squeezed her hand. "Everyone's entitled to a mistake, Sara, everyone is entitled to lose their temper; and by the sounds of it, that man of yours was more than justified to lose his temper like he did. Someone hurt you real bad, that someone wanted to kill you and by God, if someone had done what that man did to you to my Jillian or one of my kids, they'd play hell identifying the bastard by the time I got done with 'em...and I am not a violent man. For God's sake, Sara...call him; I'd hate to see you throw away your chance for happiness over the actions of someone else."

He stood up, putting a hand lovingly on her head before heading towards the hay storage barn. "You know, Sara…Jillian and I couldn't love you more if you had been born to us and we sure wouldn't give you advice that we thought was poor….You go on in now and eat that breakfast, and I want you to really think about what I said." With that, he walked off, leaving Sara to contemplate his words.

* * *

Gil unlocked the front door to the townhouse, letting Bruno off of his leash to bound into the home; no matter how many times they did this, the dog insisted on running from room to room in search of Sara; he missed her as well. Gil had not been able to spend much time at the townhouse, the ghost of Sara filling every room. Even their bed smelled of her, the soft vanilla and lilac of her skin, the gentle scent of her body. He had been sleeping on the couch, deciding it held far fewer memories than the bed they shared. He missed her terribly, he longed to see her, to speak to her, to touch her; but he knew that she had reasons for leaving; he just hoped that she would find reasons to come back. 

He had began his departmental ordered counseling sessions, deciding that it would give him an avenue to spend his idle time, since he had so much of it. Surprisingly, he found the sessions somewhat relaxing and beneficial, the assigned anger counselor being somewhat of a bug enthusiast himself. He had also taken to building Sara a new cabinet, something she had always wanted. He had chosen the wood carefully and had it nearly complete, having spent many long, sleepless nights in his study perfecting the shelving. He found that even though he missed Sara and he thought about her every second of everyday, the time they were spending apart made him appreciate the time they had together even more.

Catherine also had kept him busy. Dragging him along to the movies with her and Lindsey _('It's a slasher flick' She had told him. 'Lots of blood and pointless plots. You'll love it')_ and to dinner one night at the Excalibur where they enjoyed a very messy dinner to the Knights of Excalibur dinner show. Even the guys were pitching in, coming over during the week before shift to watch baseball and wager bets as to who would win the game. Greg, of course lost, rendering him seven punches to each arm from Warrick and Nick. Gil appreciated their concern, but was beginning to feel like they were his babysitters, not his friends. No matter what he did or whom he was with, Sara was always with him; in his thoughts as though she were standing right before him.

The doorbell rang and Gil beat Bruno to the door to answer it, knowing the dog was just excited that the person on the other side of the door would be Sara. Opening the door, he was taken aback to see his friend Heather filling the frame, her blue eyes soaking up his appearance as she smiled at him. "Well, hello Gilbert." She said in her sultry voice. "Got time for a friend?"

"Heather," he greeted with a smile. "Won't you come in?"

She moved into the house, never taking her eyes off of him. "Gilbert," she said in a soothing voice. "You look absolutely haggard."

"I have been a little tired lately." He replied emphatically.

"I have heard about your misfortune." She told him as she went to pet Bruno. The dog snorted at her and backed away, eyeing her suspiciously as he lay by the couch. "Hmmm.." she said with some amusement. "A dog...I never figured you for a dog person, Gilbert.

"Oh," He smiled as he looked back at Bruno, closing the door behind her. "That's Bruno. Sara got him for me a year ago...found him soaking wet along the road one rainy night when he was a puppy..." He shrugged. "She brought him home and I just couldn't say no."

"Sara..." Heather let the name drip off of her tongue like syrup, looking around the home at the slight feminine touch, noting the photographs displayed around the home. "Yes, I remember her." She picked up a photograph of Gil and Sara; they were sitting beneath a tree, she leaning back against him as his arms wrapped around her lovingly, smiling at the camera. "I met her at the hospital..." Heather remembered the young woman well, she also remembered the extreme tension that filled the room when Gil had walked in; noted the way he had looked at Sara, a look that said everything and nothing all at the same time. "Does she live here? With you?" She put the photo down to look at him.

He shrugged slightly. "Yeah..." He said quietly.

"Where is she now?" She asked somewhat accusingly, a smile playing out on her lips as she picked up another photo, studying Sara's face as though she were a piece of art. The photo was of her and the dog and she had her arms wrapped around the big brute's neck, laughing at the photographer, who Heather knew by the look in Sara's eyes, had been Gil.

He walked over, taking the photo from her hand somewhat possessively. He stared at it for a moment before putting it back onto the mantel. "She needed some time away." He told Heather. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Some Ginger Ale, if you have it." She responded as he nodded and headed into the kitchen. She continued looking around at the photos as Bruno gave her a distrustful look, snorting with disgust as he followed Gil into the other room. Another photo was of Gil and Sara together again, he was sitting on a chair in an unknown place, with Sara behind him, arms wrapped around him, faces together as the photo was taken. Heather felt a twinge in her heart as she realized that this was the woman who had kept Gil so distant from her for so many years, the reason he refused to give her a part of him, to share his body with her. She stared at the photo, captivated by Sara's subtle beauty portrayed in her expressive brown eyes. She sat the photo down as Gil came into the room, wondering what this woman offered him that she could not.

Heather was studying him again, her intent gaze boring into him. "You are sad, Gilbert." She said in a very erotic tone. Reaching out to touch his hair, "So much sadness in such a great man."

He pulled out of her reach, looking at her quizzically. "I, uh...here's your Ginger ale." He said as he handed her a glass.

"I cannot imagine why a woman you love so would leave you all alone." She stepped closer to him, taking the glass out of his hand and putting it onto the coffee table. Reaching out again she placed a hand on his chest, the muscles beneath his shirt tightening at her touch, enlightening her senses. "You must be lonely," She cooed stepping into him. "Such sadness." She leaned in, kissing him gently, longing for more.

He pushed her back, removing her arms from his body and holding her at bay. "Don't ever do that again." He ordered as he dropped her arms. "You need to leave now."

"Gilbert..." She tried again.

"Maybe you do not understand." He said simply, trying to be kind to her. "I love Sara, I have always loved her and I always will. You need to leave."

She stared at him with big blue eyes, the passion held within them burning strong. "But, you need physical..."

"_No."_ He said firmly. "I mean it, Heather. You are my friend and I care about you." He softened his tone, his eyes gentle. "But, I love Sara and that means that this..." He motioned between the two of them. "Will never happen."

She stepped back slightly, studying him. "What is it that Sara can offer you that I cannot?" She asked him.

"Everything." He responded sincerely, opening the door. "She offers me life, Heather, and I'm sorry, but you have to go."

* * *

Natalie Davis watched as Nurse Kory walked towards her, a package in her hand. "Well, Miss Davis," Nurse Kory said, handing the box out to her. "It looks like someone sent you a present." 

Natalie's eyes were huge. "Who?" She asked with childlike enthusiasm. "Who is it from?"

The nurse looked at the return address, furrowing her browse. "Sara Sidle." She said. Nurse Kory knew why Natalie Davis was in this place; she was one of the people who had tried to kill the CSI downtown, and now that CSI was sending her packages? Strange world.

Natalie was bouncing up and down in her chair. "Open it! Open it!" She squeeled. She knew she wasn't allowed to use knives, they wouldn't even let her use a plastic one at dinner.

Nurse Kory sat down next to Natalie, who sat hugging her doll like a loving mother. She opened the box to find a card on top of tissue paper. Removing the card, she opened it up and read it to Natalie:

_Natalie,_

_I hope that everything is going well for you. I am sorry that I have not come back to visit you, but I had to go away for a few days. I did not forget to get the doll clothes and I remembered: NO PINK. I hope you like them_

_Sara_

Handing the card to Natalie, Nurse Kory removed the tissue paper to reveal an assortment of brightly colored clothes, some tiny shoes, and socks for the doll that Natalie was holding. Natalie was staring at them in disbelief as Nurse Kory handed her the box, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Why would she send you clothes?" Nurse Kory asked

Natalie looked at her, hugging the doll close as she smiled "Because she's my friend."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**I do not own CSI; I like to write about it, but I do not own any of the characters. CBS does**

**Almost there; thank you to everyone for your reviews. I know this is long, please bear with me!**

* * *

_Gil had his hand on Sara's stomach, he could feel the baby kicking madly beneath his touch, little feet that made contact with him, if only briefly. Sara was smiling at him; today was his birthday and they were going into town for lunch and movies. She had wanted to pick out a crib, and he felt today was the perfect day to do it. After all, their son would be born in less than a few short months, and Gil wanted him to have everything._

_They were leaving the restaurant, heading to the car when it happened. There were cars everywhere and someone was shouting, but Gil wasn't sure what they said. Sara had looked at him, her brown eyes full of pain as she was yanked away from him, out of his reach. He grabbed for her, but suddenly Catherine was next to him, telling him to wait, to not spook him. Spook who?_

_David Hodges backed away from the line of police cars surrounding them, one arm around Sara's shoulders as the other pressed a gun to her temple; he had the look of a mad man and was glaring directly at Gil. _

"_You ruined my life!" He was screaming. "Why did you ruin my life?"_

_Sara looked petrified, her eyes on Gil, silently pleading him to help her...to help THEM. 'You told me you'd protect me' He heard her say in his mind'Please protect me'_

"_David, please..." Gil begged, his arms up in a look of surrender. "Just let Sara go...she has nothing to do with this, just let her go."_

"_SHE HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THIS!!" David suddenly screamed, yanking Sara back roughly, causing her to let out a short cry of pain. "You involved her, you brought her into this!" He pressed the gun harshly against Sara's temple and she began to cry, hanging onto his one arm tightly. "WHY COULDN'T YOU LEAVE HER ALONE? I LOVED HER! DON'T YOU KNOW I LOVED HER!"_

"_David, please..." He took another step towards him. _

"_DON'T YOU MOVE!!" He screamed, taking the gun away from Sara's temple to momentarily point it at Gil. "You had everything!! EVERYTHING!! I had nothing! I just tried to be like you, to make you proud of me!! And then you took her too and I hated you. I HATE YOU!!" He put the gun back on her temple, pushing it roughly against her delicate skin. _

"_Please, David..." Sara cried. "Please don't do this...please..." She was staring at Gil, her eyes full of fright, begging him to help her. Gil looked around him, knowing there was a sniper set up. 'Take the damn shot' He begged at the unseen person. 'For God's sake, just shoot him'_

"_I need him to bleed, like I bled." David seethed loudly into Sara's ear. "Only I didn't bleed blood...noooo...I bled my soul...I bled my heart, because he had everything I ever wanted and then he took you, too...and I want him to feel how I felt when I lost you."_

"_David...please...don't hurt my baby, please..." Sara was sobbing._

"_SHUT UP!" He screamed, yanking her again. Gil moved forward before Catherine caught his arm, pulling him back. There were over 20 police men around, weapons drawn ready to take him down; they just had to get him to release his death grip on Sara._

"_Hodges, c'mon man." Jim was suddenly at Gil's side. "Let Sara go, this is between you and Gil...not her...let her go."_

"_No." He said firmly, his gaze locked on Gil's face. "Don't you get it? This is about her, this has always been about her..." He grinned evilly at Gil. "Now I want you to feel it..." He seethed. "And I don't ever want you forget...what it feels like to lose everything..."_

_As if in slow motion, David's finger clasped down on the trigger, pulling it tight as he ended Sara's life. The bullet passed through Sara's skull, exploding out the other side in a massive red concussion. Gil was screaming, rushing forward to barely catch her before she hit the ground. He fell with her, screaming her name as her lifeless body rolled back in his arms covering him with blood as he screamed, pulling her to him._

_He could hear sirens in the background, vaguely aware as they got louder and shriller before bolting upright on the couch._

It was a dream...only a dream. Gil sat, sweat drenching his body as he fought to control his breathing, the images still vivid in his mind. It took him a few moments to realize that his phone was ringing, and it was all just a very bad dream.

After a few stabilizing breaths, he grabbed the phone, mumbling a weary hello into the receiver. "We got a problem, Gil." Came Jim's voice through the line.

Gil wiped a hand over his face, trying to shake the dream. "What do you mean?"

"Hodges' attorney got him released." Gil felt the chill run through him at the words. "Our guys screwed up, Gil...they didn't read him his rights..."

"What?" Gil snapped, suddenly wide-awake. "He's still in the hospital ward, right?"

"No, he was cut loose yesterday." Jim responded. "A bit banged up; the judge signed his release ten minutes ago."

"But the evidence..."

"I know, I know..." Jim sounded frazzled. "Gil, I hate to say this to you right now, man, but that beating you gave him worked in his favor..."

Gil let out a sigh of frustration, running a hand through his hair as he listened numbly to the reasons for David Hodges' release. Apparently, Gil's explosive attack had given him the room to squeeze through the system, if only for a short time. He was not on police supervision, did not have any particular restrictions other than to stay clear of Sara and stay in Vegas. "Maybe it's a good idea for Sara to stay down in Dallas." Jim told him. "At least until this blows over."

Gil thanked him, hanging up the phone. He stared at it for a long time before picking it up again, dialing Sara's number. It rang a few times and he was about to hang up when a small voice answered. "Lo?"

"Uh..." He began, holding the phone out to check that he had dialed the right number. "Sara?"

"Noooo..." Came the child's voice. "I'm Bethany."

"Bethany..." he repeated. "Is Sara there?"

The little child began giggling. "Uh huh..."

"Can I talk to her?" He asked, puzzled.

"I'm not 'posed to answer the phone." Bethany told him with a whisper. "It was in the drawer..."

"Oh?" He asked, not sure if he should be amused or irritated. He had been trying for over a week to call Sara and the first time he had gotten through, he got a little kid. "Can you please find Sara for me?"

"Aunty Sara's gettin' ready to go." Bethany responded. "She gots all her stuff ready but she can't find her phone." She was giggling again.

'_Well, that's because you have it.'_ He thought. "Can you go and give her the phone for me?"

He could hear her running down what must have been stairs. "Aunty Sara! Your phone was ringin'"

There was a rush of activity in the background, someone was laughing and then a male's voice called out. "What're you doin' with Aunt Sara's phone? She's been lookin' all over for that, Beth" Before he came on the line. "Hello?"

"Uhm..." Okay, now Gil was getting irritated. "I am trying to reach Sara."

"Oh, yeah..." The man said. "Hold on just a second and I'll get her... sorry about Bethany. She loves phones...Sara's been lookin' for it for over an hour; I'm pretty sure she darn near missed her flight by now"

Flight? "No problem." Gil said while thinking _'Just get Sara on the damn phone.'_ Again, he heard voices before hearing Sara's in the background. He heard the unknown male's voice tell her that Bethany found her phone and she had a phone call and then waited for what seemed an eternity for her to speak.

"Gil?" She said quietly. He felt a little jump in his heart at the sound of her; God he missed her so much. "Is that you?"

"I have been trying for so long to talk to you." He said suddenly, realizing the desperation in his voice. She was quiet for a long time and for a moment he thought she had hung up.

"I lost my phone..."

"I tried the home phone, too." He said it almost accusingly, cursing himself.

Silence. "I'm sorry, Sweety..." He could hear her voice crack. "I just freaked out...I ran...I am so sorry..."

"You left me, Sara." He said, trying desperately to keep his own feelings in check. The last thing he needed was to frighten her away again.

"Gil, I am sorry..." She took a deep breath. "I didn't mean to leave you...I just..." She faltered and he could hear her crying. "Everything has been so hard and I just...I just...I don't know what I was thinking."

"You should have called me." He said softly. "I looked for you all night."

"Baby, I'm sorry...please don't be angry with me."

"I am not angry with you, Honey." He said, fighting his emotions. "I just really miss you, and I want to see you...I am so afraid that you wont come back."

"I'm flying out today." She told him, sniffling. "Well, I was going to until I couldn't find my phone. I'm pretty sure I missed my flight."

"Bethany?"

She let out a slight laugh. "Yeah..." After a moment of silence, she said, "I'm sorry I hit you...I never meant to hit you..."

He closed his eyes, picturing her in his head. "I won't say it didn't hurt, in more ways than one." He replied sadly.

"Does that mean I am like him?" She asked quietly. Gil knew she was speaking of her father.

"No, honey...no, it doesn't...listen, Sara...I have known you for a very long time. I have seen you with victims, I have watched you with the suspects, even...and you are always very gentle and patient; you never lose your temper with them, or anyone, unless you are pushed...and you are never violent. I have watched you sit next to a victim in the hospital holding their hand, I have watched you give comfort to a suspect even though you knew they were a murderer." She was quiet and so he continued. "Do you remember the gorilla?"

"Uh huh..."

"Anyone with a tendency towards physical aggression would not have bothered to spread the ashes of a slain gorilla like you did, Sara...you are _not_ anything like him."

"Cisco says that even good people snap." She told him. "And that it doesn't necessarily make them bad."

"Well..." He affirmed. "Just look at me..."

"Is David alright?" The question caught him off guard and he wasn't sure how to answer, staring ahead of him at her photo on the mantle.

"Sara..." he began in a near lecturing tone, deciding to change his response. "Yes, he's going to be fine..."

She sighed. "Well, that's good then... I wouldn't want him to die and get out of spending his life in prison."

He smiled a little, he couldn't help it. _'Now, that's my Sara'_ He thought to himself. "Sara," He said quickly. "I think you should stay." There was a long silence on the line and he knew he had shocked her some. "Honey, some things have come up...and I think you are safer there."

"What things?" She sounded so broken and it hurt him to hear her.

"David was released this morning." He said with defeat. "I guess my temper allowed him a loophole, and I just don't want you back here while he is still a free man."

"Then come down here." She replied simply. "Just pack a bag, send Bruno to Nick's and come down here."

"But.."

"But, nothing." She cut him off. "Sweetheart, look, I read about your suspension in the paper this morning...I know you are going mad right now... And I cannot be there for you... I _wasn't_ there for you, and I want to be. Just come down here."

"What about Nick's parents?" He asked, mulling the idea over in his head.

"Nick's parents will love you." She replied with certainty. "And they want to meet you; I will make sure it is alright, but I know they would love to have you here. I have another week before Ecklie wants me back at the lab, and we could spend some time away...from everything."

He thought about it only momentarily. They needed the time alone, away from Vegas, and he was doing nothing besides, as she said, going mad. "Alright." He said, feeling some excitement at the prospect of seeing her. "Make sure it is alright and I'll get a flight out."

"Great!" She exclaimed as a loud crash was heard in the background, followed by some yelling and the shrill laughter of a child. "Oh, by the way..." Sara said with a giggle. "Bethany will _love_ you..."

* * *

David was angry; not only had he lost his job, but also he had spent over week in the disgusting hospital ward of the Las Vegas Detention Center being treated like a scumbag with no rights; not even allowed the pleasure of the outside air. All because of Grissom; he still could not believe that they had not pressed charges against Grissom, they had not arrested him for what he had done. It was pathetic. 

He sat in his rental car down the hill from the townhouse, watching intently as Gil Grissom loaded a suitcase into his black car, that damn dog running around in the front yard. The dog bounded over to the neighbor, an elderly lady who came out of her home to give Gil a plate of something that looked like cookies. She bent down, smiling and laughing as she pet the animal's head. Damn, David hated dogs.

He watched as Gil spoke to the woman, nodding at her with a smile before loading the dog into the car. Gil went into the home briefly, obviously checking the locks before exiting and closing the door behind him. He waved to the neighbor before getting into his car and driving away. As David watched him go he couldn't help but wonder where Sara was. Surely, Gil wouldn't leave her home alone, would he?

David chuckled. Not like it really mattered, anyway. He had been told to stay away from Sara, to keep to a distance of at least 500 feet and he knew he was parked well within that range. It didn't really make much difference; after all, he wasn't there for Sara anyway. No one had told him to stay away from Gil Grissom.

Gil had just about everything David ever wanted; success, a career, good looks. And then he took Sara, not that David ever had her to begin with, but he had always hoped to. The way she would smile at him and her face would light up when she talked, he had always thought that perhaps, someday...but that was long before he realized she was doing the boss. No wonder she did not have time for him or anyone else; she was too busy giving it all to Gil. The thought made him sick.

He followed the black car at a safe distance, putting on his sunglasses and a hat to be sure that he would not be recognized. As Gil turned down a familiar street, David realized where he was going before he pulled into Nick Stokes's driveway, opening the door for the dog to bound out and up the stairs. Nick opened the door to greet them and they disappeared inside. After 30 minutes, Gil emerged without the dog and David followed him down the highway to the airport.

Parking a distance away, David followed Gil inside, being sure that he was not spotted. As Gil approached the ticket counter, David stood aside and strained to hear the interaction occurring. As Gil handed over his bag, David watched the ticket agent smile at him, telling him to enjoy his time in Dallas.

Dallas. David smiled, _'So, that's where she is'_ He thought, turning and walking rapidly from the building. He knew what he needed to do and thankfully, he knew the people who could help him do it.

Somehow, Gil Grissom would pay for what he did. After all, he was still playing the game.

* * *

Natalie was screaming. The nurses rushing to her side in an attempt to calm her down. She kicked and flailed, trying to fight them off as they brought in a sedative. 

"NO!!" She screamed, smacking the syringe out of the nurses hand. "He'll take her!! He'll take her!!"

"Natalie!" Nurse Kory demanded. "Stop it! No one is taking anything, you need to stop it or we're going to have to make you sleep."

"But he is going to take her! He is going to take my doll!" She screamed, the tears streaming down her face.

"Who, Natalie?" Nurse Kory was desperate. Up until this point, Natalie Davis had been the ideal patient; sweet and calm, obeying all orders and getting along well with everyone around her. She'd roam the hallways coddling her little doll, bragging about the new outfits and how her friend had sent her new shoes.

But she was inconsolable, clinging to the little doll as though her life depended on it. Nurse Kory grabbed the syringe from the nurse who had retrieved it, jabbing it into Natalie's arm as she screamed. After a few minutes, her body relaxed, her breathing leveled out and she stared at Kory with eyes full of desperation. "Please don't let him take her away..." She begged in a drug induced slur.

"Who, Natalie?"

Natalie's eyes began to close as she motioned towrds the visitors lounge. "My friend..." Her eyes closed and Kory looked towards the lounge, seeing nothing but the slamming door as David Hodges vacated the room, leaving her wonder if anyone had even been there to begin with.

David ran from the building, yanking off the sunglasses as he got in his car._ 'Sara'_ He thought bitterly. She had done this, she had told Natalie what to do if he showed up, had bribed her with fancy doll clothes and sweet words. He wondered what else Sara had bribed Natalie into doing or saying. He was beyond angry now; he was livid. No one got away with that, no one messed with the game. No one had the right to move his puzzle pieces, not even Sara Sidle. As he fled from the parking lot, he dialed his contact's phone number; he was done being Mr. Nice Guy.

He was done playing the game and this time he would end it for good, even if he had to fly to Dallas himself.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24 **

**Again, I do not own CSI. I do not own any of the characters I write about, CBS does. But I thank them for allowing us to fantasize...**

**NOTE: Sorry it has taken so long. I have been working over 12 hours each day, plus my Master's degree...I will try to keep up...I am really, really, almost done now...**

* * *

Catherine walked into the lab feeling cranky and exhausted. She had been working nearly non-stop since Sara's accident, and now without Gil there she was also covering his shifts. She wanted a day off, even just 12 hours straight would have been enough to let her catch up on sleep. She had hardly talked to Lindsey and had no idea what was going on in her daughter's life most of the time. The situation did, literally, suck. 

As she made her way to the break room, she found Warrick asleep at the table, head down in his arms as his coffee went cold. Grabbing his cup, she dumped it in the sink before refilling it, filling a cup for herself before joining him at the table.

She put the cup in front of him and he groaned. "Didn't we just leave this place like 6 hours ago?" He asked.

"More like five and a half." She replied, pushing the coffee towards him. "Drink up; you'll need it."

He raised his head, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. "Man, Cath...this sucks. I don't know how much more of this I can take." He took the cup and sniffed the coffee. "Tina is mad at me; I missed our anniversary. I better be gettin' a pretty good bonus for all this."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You missed your anniversary? When was that?"

"Saturday." He replied with a scoff, taking a sip of the coffee.

Catherine winced. She had made him come in early on Saturday, his requested day off, and asked him to stay for a double shift. "Oh, Rick. I am so sorry." She sighed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "Not like it would have mattered, right? Ecklie would have forced me to come in even if you'd have let me have it off."

She was about to respond when Greg bounded in the room. "Hello, hello, hello." He greeted cheerfully as he made his way to the coffeepot, grabbing it off and sniffing the contents before dumping it down the sink.

"Why are you always so damn cheerful?" Warrick grumbled, putting his head back down on the table.

"I am not cheerful, My Good Friend." He replied with a smile. "I am just highly caffeinated." He grabbed out his special coffee grounds from the freezer, adding them to the filter before hitting the brew button.

Warrick only groaned as Nick came in. "I swear, we do the same thing every day." He shook his head. "We go home, sleep for 5 minutes, get up, come here, solve crimes, go home and do it all again…It is like a bad dream that just keeps repeating." He leaned against the counter. "No offense, guys, but I am officially getting tired of all of you."

"Feeling's mutual." Warrick mumbled into the table as Ecklie entered the room, looking haggard himself.

"Well, don't you all just look like a bunch of energy rolled into one Energizer rabbit." He sneered. "Snap out of it, we have a long night. Catherine..." He said, handing her some papers. "Assignments."

"You know," Warrick lifted his head, yawning. "It wouldn't be so bad if you hadn't eliminated a key player."

Ecklie glared at him. "Grissom broke the rules, Brown." He snapped. "Until the investigation is complete, we will all be working our tails off to keep up."

"I don't see you workin' so hard." Warrick mumbled.

Ecklie's eyes narrowed at him as he crossed his arms. "Do you need some time off, too, Brown?"

Warrick just stared at him. "No, man." He said smoothly. "I'm cool."

"_No one_ here is going to get time off." Catherine intervened. "We are already down three people in the lab and I for one cannot afford to lose any more." She looked at Warrick, whispering, "Keep your damn mouth shut."

"Well, Sidle comes back in 4 days." Ecklie informed them. "And we're looking for a replacement for Hodges, so you all just need to be patient." He turned and strode from the room.

"Patient, my ass." Warrick grumbled. "Grissom was more than justified in what he did to David and I just don't see why he should be suspended for it."

"Uh…" Catherine furrowed her eyebrows. "Try assault? Try intimidating a witness? How about beating the guy up in the interrogation room?"

"You saying he didn't deserve it?" Warrick snapped.

"No…" She shook her head in frustration. "No, of course I'm not. I am just saying that thinking someone shouldn't get suspended for beating the hell out of a subordinate…or anyone else for that matter…at work is not exactly logical thinking."

"It's more than that, and you know it." Nick said as Greg handed him a partially brewed cup of coffee. "The whole thing with him and Sara has Ecklie and the Powers-that-Be in an uproar."

"Not to mention the DUI." Greg commented, pouring his own cup of brew. "I mean, Grissom has been a little…" He paused for the right word. "Out of sorts lately?"

"Still, suspension?" Warrick asked. "I can see some time off maybe, but suspension?" he shook his head. "Since when can't a guy defend his lady?"

"Since his lady is also his employee." Catherine commented as she stood up. Noticing the looks she received, she shrugged. "Hey, I love Sara as much as you guys, but you all know that her and Grissom are against all rules. I'm not saying it is wrong…_weird_, maybe…but not wrong."

Warrick pondered a moment before smiling a little. "You think that if she hadn't gotten hurt, that he would have still told us?"

"No." Catherine and Nick said in unison. Nick began to laugh, shaking his head. "They wanted to keep it totally secret; low key." He explained. "I think it was kind of this creepy fantasy thing of Grissom's…"

"Well," Catherine sighed. "So much for the low key…or the secret…Okay, guys, enough speculation on the sex life of Gilbert Grissom. Time for work."

She handed out assignments and was just heading for the door when she stopped. "Shit…" she muttered.

"What is it?" Warrick asked.

"I was supposed to go pick up Grissom's car at the airport." She said. "Two days ago…he's going to kill me."

"I can get it." They turned to see Judy, the receptionist, bouncing on her heels. She pushed her glasses up on her face. "Really. I don't mind. I know you are all busy and, well, it would be kind of cool to drive Dr. Grissom's car…"

Warrick and Catherine exchanged glances. _'What is it with all these girls and Grissom?'_ Warrick wondered. Catherine gave her the keys and the spot number where it was parked, along with a lab credit card to pay the parking fee. She told her to just bring the car back to the lab and she would deal with getting it to Grissom's house later the next day.

Judy bounded away happily, swinging the keys in her hand as she went. "That girl is way too happy." Warrick shook his head as he followed Catherine out towards their assignment.

"That girl has had a crush on Grissom since the day she started here." Catherine commented with a shake of her head.

Warrick scoffed. "Which girl hasn't?"

"Well, I for one…" Catherine said as she pushed the exterior door open. "…like my guys a little younger." She winked at him with a smile as they left the building, leaving him grinning behind her.

* * *

Gil awoke to the soft play of sunlight across the sheets, feeling Sara's smooth form next to him. Rolling over, he enveloped her into his arms pulling her close as the soft vanilla scent of her hair filled his senses. She stirred slightly, snuggling closer against his body as she slept. Even after two years, he was still amazed at how well her body fit within his and how good it felt just to hold her like this in the quiet moments of the morning. Their time apart had been good for them, but this time together had been even better. 

They had spent the his first night at the ranch wrapped up in a blanket on the porch swing, swinging gently as they watched the sunset off the horizon. Nick's parents had gone into town, leaving them time alone to 'sort things out'. Gil was thankful for that, as he knew that there were so many things that he and Sara had to sort through so that they could move on. By the time that they were both too sleepy to talk anymore, 4 hours had passed and they just sat quietly, cuddled together under the blanket watching the stars. He wasn't sure who fell asleep first and only woke when Nick's father touched his shoulder, telling him that they'd both wake up with millions of mosquito bites if they didn't come inside.

As he lay in bed that morning with Sara in his arms, he thought about his life and how he had never felt a bond like he felt with Sara. He knew that for years he had put off his feelings for her, telling himself that he was far too old, she was far too young, and that she would become bored with him eventually and find someone younger; like Nick. She was young and beautiful, he was old and boring; he told himself that she would break his heart. _'There is only one person in this whole world for you'_ His mother had told him so many years before. _'Only one person who will truly have your heart; who will be your soulmate...when you find her, you will know.' _Gil knew, holding Sara, that she was his one person.

He had drifted back to sleep when the sound of activity outside the room woke him up. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was just shy of 7 AM. He leaned over to kiss Sara's cheek softly before pulling away, careful not to wake her. It had been a long time since she had been able to sleep so restfully without the use of sleeping aids, and he did not want to disturb her much needed rest.

He climbed out of bed, showering quickly before dressing quietly and heading from the room, glancing at Sara before closing the door gently behind him. He made his way down the stairs to find Nick's father in the kitchen, steaming cup of coffee in hand. Cisco looked up at him and nodded. "Good morning, Gil."

"Good morning, Bill." He replied as he went to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.

"Sara still sleeping?" Cisco looked up from his paper at him as Gil nodded.

"She sleeps well here." He replied. "Maybe I should move her to Texas so she can get some rest at night."

"Nah..." Cisco said. "She'd go nuts without all of that excitement ya'll got up there in Nevada."

Gil nodded as he joined him at the table. "True; she does love her job."

Cisco put the paper down. "You feel up to mornin' chores?"

"Sure." Gil replied with a drink of coffee.

Cisco nodded. "Well, it's a good thing that Sara got you to come down here." He said as he stood up. "Cause I can't get that girl to get out'a bed in the mornin' for nothin..."

They went out to the barns and Gil helped him feed the horses and tend to the cattle, even assisting him in rounding up a couple of the loose roosters who went looking for love across the neighbors front yard. Gil had to admit that he enjoyed the farm life, but didn't think that it was something he would want to do full time; he would much rather solve crimes than chase pigs and chickens. And Cisco only did this part time, the rest of the time he was a Supreme Court Justice; Gil just didn't know how he managed it all.

As they were heading back to the house, Cisco looked at Gil a couple of times as he studied his features. "So," He began as they walked across the expanse of the front field. "I suppose you know how much Jillian and I care about Sara."

Gil nodded; of course he knew. Cisco nodded himself and continued. "She's our daughter...well, figuratively speaking...but she may as well have been a Stokes. Hell just look at her; dark hair, dark eyes... Jillian always says she's the one we left under the wood pile" He glanced at Gil again with a smile. "You know, Gil, for a long while we hoped that Nick would marry her." He saw the expression on Gil's face and smiled wider. "Just so we could keep her. Of course, they were never more than best friends and hell, Nick thinks of Sara as his kid sister...he loves her..." he shrugged. "We all love her... there aint nothin' in this world that I would not do for that girl." He stopped to face Gil. "I am just wondering, Gil...if you feel the same?"

Gil stared at him a moment, trying to comprehend his question. He slowly realized that Nick's father was playing the role that Sara's father should be playing, that he should have played all of her life; guardian and protector. He was looking out for Sara, and Gil knew that he only wanted to protect her from being hurt any more. He nodded slowly. "Yes." He replied honestly. "Sara is my life, Bill. I would never do anything intentionally to hurt her."

Bill eyed him momentarily. "I know you wouldn't do anything intentionally." He said. "Sometimes it is the accidental things that hurt the most."

"The best intentions are fraught with disappointment." Gil replied.

"Nick said you are a good man; he respects you." Cisco continued. "He says that you treat her well, and I have seen that." He sighed as they began walking again. "Don't take me wrong, Gil, I am not questioning your integrity, Sara's just the last girl we have and she has been through so much hell... we just want her to be happy."

"As do I." Gil responded, stopping again. "May I ask you something?"

Cisco looked at him, taking off his gloves to put them in his back pocket. "Sure."

Gil paused, putting his fingers together as he tried to form his words. "I am going to ask Sara to marry me." He said finally. "I...well, I know you are not her real father, but... Would you give us your blessing?"

Cisco was quiet, looking down at the ground for a moment before looking back up at Gil. His face broke out in a huge smile as he reached out and grabbed his hand, shaking it vigorously as he held it firmly. "Wow." He said with a laugh. "I am honored that you asked me, Gil." He said. "Yes...you would have my blessing."

Gil smiled as Cisco patted him on the back and they continued walking. "Thank you." He said as Cisco laughed.

"I think," Cisco said taking a deep breath. "That this is going to be a beautiful day."

* * *

Judy climbed out of the cab, giving the driver the money Catherine had given to her for the ride over, and made her way to the parking area where Gil had parked his black Nissan. She felt a rush of excitement at the sight of his car; Gil Grissom had always been so appealing to her and the idea of driving his car was the highlight of her day. 

She knew, of course, that he was Sara's guy; lucky girl. She always known there was something between them, all of the glances and smiles; not to mention the evenings that they left the lab together, when all of the other CSI's had gone home. Judy couldn't blame Sara for snagging him up...he was a hottie, after all. And she couldn't blame Gil for picking Sara, either, even though she wished that she herself would have had a chance. Oh, well, a girl can dream.

Judy had always like Sara, so her jealousy was only minor. Sara was the one who would sit and talk to her during breaks, rolling a stool over so that they could eat together while discussing books that Judy was reading or new forensics techniques that the lab was performing. Sara always bought some Avon from Judy, faithfully putting in an order every month, even when she didn't find something she really wanted. Of all the CSI's, Sara was the nicest besides Greg; and no one was nicer than Greg not even Gil Grissom.

When Sara had gone missing, Judy felt horrible. Gil had been so distraught and the entire lab was in a frenzy. When they found her alive, Judy had thanked the Lord and prayed each night that she would recover fully. She had been shocked to find out that David Hodges was involved, but knew also that he was a little off to begin with. She would find him in Grissom's office snooping through things all the time; she knew he was obsessed with their boss, she just never realized how much.

She reached the car, unlocking the doors with the remote before climbing into the driver's seat. _'Oh, it smells so nice.'_ She thought, as she smelled in the subtle hint of his cologne. She couldn't help but wonder what it smelled like up close, just under his chin. She put the key in the ignition, running her hands on the steering wheel as she reached down the turn the key.

The last thing that Judy Tremont thought before her life ended was how lucky she was to be alive.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 **

**Again, I do not own CSI. I do not own any of the characters I write about, CBS does. But I thank them for allowing us to fantasize...**

**NOTE: This is the second to the last chapter. Chapter 26 will be the wrap up and the finale of the story. Thank you to all for your loyal dedication. I went back and changed Judy's last name to the correct one listed on which is Tremont (changed in chapter 24, also).**

* * *

"Seriously, though…what do you think it is?" Greg asked as he crawled along the wall, picking up pieces of spent shelling as he went.

"Come on, man." Nick begged. "We've been through this already and I told you I don't really care."

Greg looked up at him. "Yes, you do." He scoffed. "Everyone does. I mean, what does Grissom have that we don't?" He shrugged as he gathered another casting from the floor and deposited it into an evidence bag. "I don't know about you, but I am a pretty good catch. I'm young…pretty good looking, funny. Grissom's not funny; he's too serious. Not to mention the age difference between them; I mean, fifteen years? What could they possibly have in common?"

Nick shook his head as he continued dusting for prints. "I told you I don't want to talk about it."

"Ahhh." Greg responded with one of his 'all knowing' nods. "_You_ like Sara and she passed you up for Grissom...an older man..."

"Sara's my best friend, Greg." Nick replied. "You know that."

"But, you want her to be _more_ than that." Greg replied, standing up, to put his evidence bag into his kit on the counter. "And she turned you down...ouch."

"Why are you dwelling on this?" Nick threw his arms out in mock exasperation. "Sara loves Grissom, Grissom loves Sara…its not too tough to figure out."

"But _why_? That is the question." Greg stood still, putting on his best thinking face. "Why not me? Why not _you?_"

"Okay." Nick stopped, glaring at Greg. "I've had about enough of this conversation. Just get to work, concentrate on the crime scene and let's get out of here."

Greg leaned on the wall, giving Nick a sympathetic look. "She burned you pretty bad, huh?" He asked. "Tore your heart out, turned you down..."

Nick clenched his jaw as he tried to ignore Greg, but it wasn't working. "Look." He snapped. "Sara is my _best friend_... She's the best friend I have ever had in my entire life; she is like my sister Greg." He gave him a look of annoyance. "Would you date your sister?"

"That depends...Does my sister look like Sara?" Greg sneered.

Nick shook his head. "Maybe you've never had a real best friend." He replied as he removed one of his gloves. "Because for some reason, you think that a strong, close relationship between a man and a woman has to be sexual; it doesn't...what Sara and I have, our friendship, has nothing to do with sex or desire or physical attraction."

"How could you not be attracted?"

"_She's-my-best-friend_." Nick enunciated each word.

"It doesn't bother you that you have to share her with Grissom?" Greg pushed as he knelt back down to finish processing the floor. "I mean, that she tells him things that she wouldn't even tell you...her best friend?"

"Sara tells me everything." Nick defended, putting away the fingerprint evidence and writing down his log time.

"She never told you she was a foster kid." Greg commented, looking up at him.

Nick stopped, frozen for a moment by Greg's comment. Although he and Sara shared almost everything with each other, she had never mentioned her stint in foster care. Sara never spoke of her childhood and rarely mentioned her parents. She had once, when asked by his mother about the small scar on her forehead, told them that her father had thrown a beer bottle at her when she was ten. Her response had been awkward and painful; Nick and his parents figured she had been an abused child, but never a foster child. He looked at Greg with a thoughtful expression. "You know, I always thought that Sara and I knew practically everything there was to know about each other. But she never told me about being a foster kid." He shrugged. "I guess it was something she didn't want anyone to know."

"But, she told Grissom." Greg replied. "And you're her best friend."

Nick's phone began to ring and he was relieved to have a distraction. He removed his remaining glove, carefully unclipping the phone from his hip. "Stokes."

"Get to the airport." Catherine said in a shaking voice.

"But, we're not done…" He began

"Judy's dead." She said suddenly, her voice full of emotion. "Grissom's car…" She faltered. "Just get to the airport. Stop what you are doing, secure the scene and just get here." She hung up, leaving Nick to stare at his phone for a moment. _'She has got to be kidding'_ He thought, fighting the urge to dial her back and tell her that jokes like that were just not funny.

As he looked at Greg, he could feel the blood drain from his face as he realized that this was not a joke.

* * *

They were greeted at the airport by at least twenty police cars and fire trucks, the bomb squad, the coroner's rig, and flashing lights from fellow CSI vehicles. Nick skidded to a stop at the front of the entry way, throwing his door open as he jumped out followed closely by Greg.

As they rounded the front of the building, a surge of reporters cascaded upon them and Nick quickly turned the other direction as Greg ducked his head to avoid questioning.

"Excuse me!" One reporter bellowed, shoving a microphone at them. "How do you feel about the death of your coworker?"

"Do you feel that this murder and the attempted murder of CSI Sara Sidle are related?" Another pushed, trying to get ahead of the first reporter.

"Is it possible that Ms. Tremont was also having a secret affair with your supervisor?"

"Was this an act of jealousy?"

Nick pushed through the yellow tape and followed the activity around the building, thankful to be away from the buzz of the cameras. Greg looked frazzled as he glanced at Nick. "Bunch of vultures." He commented, his voice shaking.

"I had to get away before I punched one of them." Nick said back, his jaw set in anger.

When Gil had left his Nissan at the airport, he had left it at the outdoor, short stay parking where he had expected Catherine to pick it up the evening he had left it. As Nick and Greg came upon the crime scene, they were overcome with a mix of emotions. For Nick, one emotion was an overwhelming relief that it had not been parked in the parking garage or they would be dealing with more than just the murder of their coworker.

Catherine saw their approach and came rushing over to them, looking as though she desperately wanted to throw her arms around the two of them, yet restraining herself due to the protocol of their situation. "I can't process." She told them desperately. "I just..." She faltered, tears in her eyes.

Nick reached out, ignoring all standard protocol, and put his arms around her to pull her close. "It's alright, Cath." He soothed. "We can handle it...you don't need to."

She nodded against him, pulling away to wipe her eyes. "Warrick is securing the parameter." She said. "Brass and Sofia are clearing the area and all that is left is..." She faltered. "Judy is in the car...Doc is here and so is Dave, but they can't do anything until one of us clears the body..." She began crying again. "But Judy's not a body...she's Judy..."

Greg could feel the tears in his eyes as he listened to Catherine and surveyed the scene. Gil's car was barely recognizable; the once brilliant black paint reduced to nothing but charcoal gray. The majority of the windows were completely gone and the rear taillights had all but shattered completely. He barely heard Catherine's voice and hardly noticed as Warrick came over, explaining to them what had happened. It was not a bomb, the bomb squad had determined that the scene was safe. The cause was determined to be a rigged gas tank with a slight charge attached to the ignition, setting off the explosive fire when Judy turned the key.

Greg barely heard any of this as he made his way towards the car, his eyes focused uncontrollably on the front driver's door, which was opened to reveal an arm hanging out. He willed himself to wake up, to open his eyes and turn off the alarm and go to work so he could tell Judy all about this weird dream. He knew that any second his eyes would open and everything would be fine and this was all just one of those weird Nyquil dreams he got when he had a cold. He heard one of the detectives say something to him through a tunnel, but could not respond, all he could do was keep walking while silently screaming to himself to wake up.

When he got to the door, he looked in, the sight before him suddenly jolting him back to a swarming reality. There was no way that the thing in that seat was Judy. He stared at the charred figure, mostly unrecognizable but yet still so incredibly familiar. As he told himself it wasn't true, he caught sight of Judy's mother's necklace around the neck and suddenly felt ill, rushing his way past the detectives to bend over a few feet away, vomiting out everything he had in his stomach.

* * *

Sara sat at the table, concentrating on the cards in her hand. Joseph, Nick's brother's 4 year old little boy, sat across from her swinging his feet gleefully as he waited for her to play her hand.

"You gotta Go Fish." He told her triumphantly.

She looked at him. "I know, I know." She took a card as he giggled, knowing that he would beat her yet again. "I swear I am going to tickle you crazy if you win again." She told him in her best mock-threatening voice. The little boy only covered his mouth with a tiny hand, giggling even more.

They were sitting outside in the warm Texas evening air. Nick's entire family had come over for a barbecue, using the ruse that they "always did this on Thursday evenings" but Sara knew that it was so they could meet Gil. His family had wanted to 'approve of him' for years and they had used the barbecue as an excuse to test him; somehow, Sara felt he had passed the test with flying colors.

She glanced over at the yard, where he was caught up in a game of Hide and Seek with the majority of the kids and quite a few of the adults. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him; he was so much more relaxed and happy than she had ever seen him before. He was barefoot, with his jeans rolled up to just below the knees (he and Bethany had been crawdad hunting in the creek earlier) and he wore a simple blue T-shirt. He was laughing and had been accepted into this circle of family as though he had always been one of them. His face was a golden brown from the Texas sun and she thought she had never heard him laugh the way he had laughed today; it was wonderful.

Her attention was brought back to the table as Joseph triumphantly won the third game in a row, his excited giggles emanating from his tiny body. "What'cha gonna do now, Aunty Theera?" He giggled.

Sara glared at him playfully; she loved the way he said her name 'Theera' instead of Sara. "I told you already." She threatened. "I'm going to chase you down and tickle you."

"Huh-uh…" He shook his head as Nick's oldest sister, Della, approached the table. "You gots that brace thingy. I can run real fast."

"You are cheating, Joseph Henry Stokes." She told him as his father Nathaniel scooped him up from behind.

"Come on, Little Man." Nathaniel said as he threw the little boy over his shoulder. "Time for a bath."

"But, I's playin' with Aunty Theera!" He protested loudly.

"I am sure that Aunty _Theera_ will be ready to tickle you after your bath." Nathaniel informed him, winking at Sara as he packed him off.

From his dangling position over his father's shoulder, Nathaniel motioned _'I'm watching you'_ with his little fingers, pointing at Sara who repeated the motion back to him, causing him to giggle madly again as Della sat next to Sara at the table.

"He sure does love you." Della said as Nathaniel disappeared into the house with the little boy.

Sara smiled. "He's a great little guy."

Della watched the game of hide and seek, laughing as Gil was tackled to the ground by 4 children, collapsing into a pile of laughing arms and legs. "Sara" She said, motioning towards Gil. "_He_ is absolutely adorable."

Sara looked in the direction of the squirming pile, noting that Gil was rapidly losing the battle as Nick's brother-in-laws ran over to assist him. "Yeah." She sighed. "He is."

"Well, I can certainly see why you snagged him up." Della commented in her slow Texas drawl as she took a drink of her margarita. "You guys gonna get married?"

Sara choked on her own drink, looking over at her. "Uhm…huh?"

Della laughed at her. "You can't tell me you haven't thought about it…" she said. "I mean, he's a cutie, Sara; definitely a keeper…you guy's must be thinkin' about marryin'."

Sara shook her head. "Nooo…" she replied. "It isn't something we've ever talked about." She shrugged.

"What would you say if he asked you?" Della prodded, leaning towards her across the table with a knowing look on her face.

Sara's cheeks began to flush. "I, uh…" she began. "I never thought about it…I mean, we are just trying to do one day at a time right now. I wouldn't want to think about what I would say…I mean, it's not like we're heading in that direction."

"You love him, right?" Della asked as Sara nodded. "Can you picture yourself with him, and only him, for the rest of your life?"

Sara thought for a moment, considering the question. "Well," She replied slowly. "I never thought about that…but…I cannot picture myself living the rest of my life _without_ him…"

Della nodded, taking another sip of the ice cold drink. "So, what would you say? If he asked you?"

"Della, I really hadn't…"

"What would you say?"

Sara felt her cheeks growing even hotter as Della gazed at her. "I don't know, Della." She replied honestly. "I can't imagine him asking me…I mean, he's never married and never wanted to. His job has been pretty much his life, just like it is for Nick and I and Gil is 50 years old now; I don't know that marriage is something he intends to do at this point in his life." She was getting uncomfortable under the woman's gaze. "So, I am not sure how to answer something that may never happen."

"But what would you _say_?" Della was leaning in, her concentration completely on Sara.

Sara thought a moment, trying to picture how it would be if Gil ever really proposed to her. It wasn't like something she thought he would really do; he was committed to her, she knew that, but marriage? It just seemed a little bit too far-fetched. "If he asked me…_which he wouldn't_…" she emphasized. "I would probably say yes."

"Because you love him?"

"I do; but I just don't think that marriage is in the picture for us." Sara replied honestly as Gil and the others came over to the table to join them. Sara knew her cheeks were ablaze as Gil came up behind her, bending down to kiss her cheek lovingly as Della looked on. She winked at Sara, saying, "I dunno, Little Sis…I think it is pretty likely."

"What is?" Nick's youngest sister, Nicole, asked as she sat at the table.

"Just somethin' Sara and I were tossin' around." Della said as she got up, grabbing Sara's glass along with her own for a refill.

Della had just gone into the house when Jillian came out, her face white as she looked at Gil and Sara. "I think you two better come in here and see this." She said as Gil's phone began to ring.

He reached down and picked it up off of the table, noting Catherine's number on the caller ID. Jillian was nodding at him as he flipped it open. "Grissom." He said as Catherine began to speak. He had his hand on Sara's shoulder and she noted the way that his grip became tighter as he listened to Catherine, his responses being only short ones. Sara watched as Jillian studied Gil, the look on her face telling Sara that something was very wrong. "What's going on, Griss?" She asked quietly, looking up at him. He barely mumbled a goodbye, looking down at Sara with an expression of great sorrow.

"Honey, we have to go home." He told her quietly as Jillian approached the table, followed by Cisco who had just come from the house. Sara suddenly noted that everyone had become quiet as they watched her and Gil and she began to feel very unsettled.

Breanne came out of the house, holding the phone next to her chest. "It's Nicky." She told Sara, holding the phone out to her with a look resembling pity as she glanced from her to Gil. "He wants to talk to you, Sis."

Sara took the phone as Gil leaned down next to her, kissing her cheek as she placed the receiver to her ear. As Nick began to tell Sara what had happened, Gil wrapped his arms around her, feeling the weight of their sorrow building within him as Sara heard from Nick everything that Catherine had just told him. The world that they were trying to rebuild was being ripped apart again, and this time someone that they both cared about had paid the price that was intended for them.

* * *

The investigation into Judy's murder had been turned over to the day shift, Ecklie was not convinced that Catherine and her team could _'handle the situation objectively and professionally'._ This latest attack on her already beaten team had nearly pushed Catherine over the edge, and now she sat on her small balcony, downing her fourth rum and coke as she thought about the events of the last 24-hours. Lindsey was in California with her friend's family, spending the week at Disneyland and Catherine was relieved that she wasn't home for this latest blow.

Ecklie has given her some "time off" to recuperate. Catherine knew it was because of her mental explosion at the scene, her verbal assault on his manhood and her challenge to his abilities as a human in front of the team. He had shown up, barking at Sofia to _'quit balking and clear the scene'_ and Brass had nearly taken his head off; one of their coworkers had been killed and Ecklie expected them to process the scene as though she were a stranger. Catherine had lost it, the events of the last month and a half culminating at that very moment, and Ecklie had effectively relieved the team of their duties to the scene. It was just as well; they were all in shock and reverberating from the situation.

A knock on her door drew her attention away from the airplane she had been studying and she rose to answer it. Padding through their small house, she peeked through the peep hold, surprised at the face on the other side.

Opening the door, she immediately grabbed Gil's shoulders, pulling him close as she began to sob. He held her close for a minute as she let the overwhelming magnitude of the situation escape from her lungs before she pulled back to look up at him. "Oh, God...I've missed you." She said as she wiped her eyes.

He studied her with a look of great concern and caring. "Are you going to let me in?"

She stepped back as he entered the house. "I'd offer you a drink, but I'm pretty sure you can't have one." She said apologetically.

He gave her a very small grin. "I can have one." He replied simply. "I just can't drive."

Catherine nodded. "One rum and coke, coming your way." She went into the kitchen as he followed her. "When did you get in?"

He sat at the bar, watching as she grabbed a glass and began putting ice into it. "Early this morning." He sighed. "Ecklie put Sara to work right away; she's still processing the car." He grew quiet, thinking of the scene that met them when they landed at the airport. Sara had handled the events much better than he had anticipated, switching into investigation mode the minute they had stepped off of the airplane.

Catherine stared at him. "He made Sara process?"

Gil nodded. "Judy wasn't in the car." He replied. "We never saw her."

"Oh, Thank God..." she sighed as she finished filling his glass with coke before bringing it over to him. "He removed the rest of us; sent us home...he's an ass."

Gil took a sip of his drink as he thought about Judy's death. He had always liked their receptionist; she was warm and friendly and had always had a smile for everyone. Her death was unnecessary and unfair; it was also a death not meant for her. He looked at Catherine, who had sat across from him at the small kitchen bar. "Are you alright, Catherine?" He asked quietly, studying her face.

Her eyes began to tear up a little. "If I would have picked the car up that night." She began. "This wouldn't have happened; she would be alive right now, Gil..."

"You don't know that." He replied softly. "No one knows when the car was rigged. It could have been that day, that night..." He reached out and cupped her cheek. "It could have been you, Catherine...and I know this sounds wrong right now, but...I am just so glad it wasn't."

A tear fell from her cheek and Gil wiped it away as he watched her. Catherine was his best friend, he had known her for over twenty years and he honestly didn't know what he would do if she were suddenly gone. On one hand he felt selfish and cold, relishing in Catherine's survival while across the state Judy's family was immersed in painful grief over her death. On the other hand he was sincerely remorseful for the loss of one of his staff; he wasn't sure which emotion was the strongest and had no idea how to deal with both senses at the same time.

"What is happening to us, Gil?" She asked him. "Our lab...our team...our _friends_...everything is falling apart and now..." she choked back a sob. "...now, Judy is dead and it is just...this is not right, it's not fair..." She began to sob again and he stood up, circling the bar to pull her into his embrace again, allowing her body to shake against him and feeling her grief mix with his own.

Catherine felt the strength of his arms around her, the warmth of his chest against her cheek and let the comfort he offered her soak into her skin like moisture. After what seemed an eternity she pulled back, wiping her eyes as she motioned to the garden couch on the balcony. "Care to watch airplanes with me?" She asked him.

They went out to the balcony, sitting together on the small garden couch as they enjoyed their drinks. They were quiet for a long while, immersed in thoughts and the gentle comfort that came from years of friendship. As the night wore on, they began to talk and reminisce about their life as Catherine continued to make them drinks. Hours passed as they sat together on the couch, watching the airplanes until all they could see of them were the small red lights that bade them farewell as they moved lazily across the dark Nevada sky.

* * *

Sara leaned against the table, careful studying the airport surveillance footage that Archie played for her time and time again. They had picked up two figures near Gil's car, and Archie had managed to filter the feed so that faces were visible.

It was 5 AM in the morning; she was tired, but determined to work the case until they found out who was responsible for what had happened to Judy. She had not seen the body and she was thankful for that. Doc Robbins had told her that he didn't think it was a good idea for any of them to see her, at least not yet, and Sara had been thankful that Ecklie wasn't pushing the issue.

Gil had called her a few hours before from Catherine's house, letting her know that he would be spending the evening there and asking that she call him when she was done at the lab. She knew that Catherine had taken Judy's death hard, holding herself somehow responsible for it and Sara was grateful that Gil had gone to her house to offer her comfort. She also knew that Catherine was to Gil what Nick was to her and she knew that she would do whatever possible to comfort him in a time like this. When it came to Gil and Catherine, Sara knew that jealousy was a ridiculous emotion; they were best friends and were entitled to spend time together, just as with her and Nick.

Once they had the proper feed, she transferred everything to Brass's department for trace and headed to the evidence garage where Gil's Nissan was parked. As she entered, she found Ecklie busying himself with the front end of the car along with one of his dayside CSI's.

Ecklie watched her approach, a look that resembled both smug indignation and reluctant respect on his face. "No prints." He told her. "All evidence was pretty much melted off this thing."

Sara came up next to him, looking at the car. "Have you been underneath?"

Both Ecklie and the CSI looked at her. "Not yet."

Sara nodded, heading from the room to change into coveralls before bringing her safety goggles back with her to lay on the small trolley, pushing herself under the car with a spot light to survey the undercarriage. She worked steady for hours, Ecklie eventually leaving the room as the dayside CSI stayed with her, pulling along side her underneath as they searched for any useable evidence.

At 10 AM she walked into the fingerprint lab, holding a small plastic bag containing what looked like a brass switch of some sort. She handed it over to Wendy. "Can you process this right away?" She asked. "I think there might be a partial, but it is hard to identify with all of the damage."

Wendy stared at it before looking at Sara. "How did you ever come up with this?"

Sara shrugged. "Point of contact." She said. "It started the recoil, but remained fairly untouched other than from smoke and heat... Ecklie didn't think of it, of course, because he is not a CSI...he's just a jerk. And the bomb squad only saw the charge at the ignition...they just deemed it not a bomb, but didn't look any further than that."

Wendy smiled. "I'll get it on it right now..." She watched as Sara began to leave the room. "Sara?" When Sara turned around she asked, "Do you think that Hodges is behind this?"

Sara stared at her a moment before nodding. "I think that, if he didn't do this...he knows who did." She replied. "We just need to get everything we can to nail him and make sure it sticks this time." She turned and left the room, deciding to lie down for awhile while she waited for the results. It had been over a month since she had been worked in the lab and the long shift was taking a toll on her; she needed some sleep.

* * *

David Hodges was watching the news. He had done nothing but scan the channels, listening to the police scanner as the events of Judy's death played over and over on the TV.

He was livid; this was not part of his plan. Somehow, Gil had managed to finagle the situation again and had cost Judy her life. David paced his house, angrily cursing the TV monitor as he watched the CSI's process the scene. He froze as he caught an image of Sara flash across the screen, grabbing his remote to pause and rewind the footage. What the hell was she doing there? Why the hell would Gil make her deal with this mess, where was he?

His anger began to boil as he played and replayed the footage, studying and memorizing every move that Sara made. Not only had Gil Grissom caused the death of Judy, but also he was forcing Sara to cover the scene for him, most likely so no one would know of his guilt.

Gil Grissom was pushing David's buttons and it was time for David to deal with the situation himself. Gil had killed Judy and there was no way he would get away with that; it was the last straw.

David was just grabbing his coat to leave when the doorbell rang and he opened the door to be greeted yet again by Jim Brass and two uniformed officers. He felt the panic well up inside of him but planted a smile on his face instead.

"Hey, Brass." He said casually. "Damn shame about Judy, huh?"


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26 **

**Again, I do not own CSI. I do not own any of the characters I write about, CBS does. But I thank them for allowing us to fantasize...**

**NOTE: This is a very long chapter; I apologize. I was trying to get everything wrapped up in this one. Thanks for staying with me on this. I am not as happy with this chapter as I wanted to be and it took forever; school, family, and work seems to prevail. Hopefully, you do not find it too cheesey. Epilogue to follow?**

* * *

"Yeah." David snorted. "The last time you said that I had the shit beat out of me by your buddy." He replied coldly. "If you want to talk to me, contact my attorney." 

He went to close the door, but Jim stuck his arm out, blocking the attempt. "I think you need to come with us."

David's glare met with the cold stare of Jim's and neither made a move for a moment. "What, are you going to arrest me, Detective Brass?" He sneered, trying to shove the door closed against Jim's outstretched arm. "Name a reason."

"Gee," Jim said levelly, his gaze never leaving David's face. "How about interference with a public servant in the line of duty." He said flatly. "What'a you guys think?"

In silent response to his inquiry, the two officers with him moved forward, grabbing David from his stance in the doorway. As they pulled him from the house to apply the handcuffs, Jim leaned in to him to whisper harshly. "_Now_, I am going to arrest you." He patted him on the shoulder in mock friendship, putting his sunglasses on his face before turning away, muttering "Probably a good time to call that attorney."

* * *

Natalie Davis sat at the visitor's table, rocking back and forth as she held her little doll close. She watched the trees outside the barred window sway ever so slightly in the gentle Nevada wind, wondering what the shadows looked like on the ground. She missed being outside, missed going for walks and especially missed her apartment. She wanted to go home. 

The door to the visitor's lounge opened and Natalie's face broke out into a huge smile as she watched Sara walk through the door carrying a bright blue gift bag as she entered. Sara met her smile with one of her own as she made her way towards her. Natalie watched her, studying the shiny metal brace around her left leg; she wondered what it felt like and if Sara was mad at her for making her wear it.

"Hey, Natalie." Sara smiled as she stood before her at the table.

Natalie pulled her eyes away from the brace to look up at her. "Does it hurt?"

Sara furrowed her eyebrows. "Does what hurt?" She asked slowly.

Natalie pointed to the brace and Sara looked down at it with a smile. "No." She shook her head. "Not at all. It helps me walk without falling over." She saw the confused look on Natalie's face and went on. "My muscles haven't quite figured out how to work again, so this helps give them support until they are strong enough to work by themselves."

Natalie nodded slightly. "Do you sleep in it?"

Sara shook her head, touched by Natalie's child-like innocence. "Nope...I just wear it when I am walking, but I can take it off any time I want."

Natalie tilted her head slightly. "Can I see?"

Sara was taken aback slightly, but pulled a chair out from the table to sit down, quickly removing the brace to hand it to Natalie, who studied it as though it were a rock from Mars. After a few minutes, she gave it back to Sara. "It's like a model...lots of pieces."

Sara smiled at her as she put the brace back onto her leg. "Yeah, I guess it is." Once she was done, she lifted the bag and handed it to Natalie. "I thought that maybe your doll was getting tired of the same clothes, so I brought you these."

Natalie stared at the bag, her eyes studying the color. She slowly took it from Sara, looking up at her. "Why are you so nice to me?"

Sara looked at her, noticing the slight distrust in her haunted eyes. "Because I like you." She said simply. "Everyone needs someone to be nice to them."

"Even me?" She whispered, her voice full of wonder.

Sara smiled. "Of course….why not you?"

"I did bad things." Natalie replied, looking down. "I hurt people."

Sara watched her. "Someone made you do that." She told her. "Someone who said they were your friend, Natalie. You trusted them and they used you to hurt other people; that isn't your fault."

Natalie tilted her head to the side, staring blankly out in front of her. After a moment, she looked up at Sara. "Are you going to do that?" She asked softly.

Sara reached out to take her hand. "No, Sweety." She said soothingly. "I would never do that to you. I know what it is like to be hurt…I don't want to hurt you."

As if triggered by an invisible switch, Natalie broke out into a huge grin as she looked at Sara. "Because you are my friend." She said as Sara nodded. Excitedly, she dug into the bag of clothes, squealing with delight at the white dress shoes and lacey dresses that Sara had brought her.

They visited for a while, Sara helping Natalie dress the doll as they talked about models and dolls and how sunny it was in Nevada. After fifteen minutes, Sara glanced up at the pair who peered at her through the observation window and cleared her throat. "Natalie," She began. "I brought some people with me today; people who would like to speak to you."

Natalie looked at her, her eyes squinting into a look of incredible apprehension. "Who?"

Sara motioned towards the door, where Greg and Sofia were anxiously awaiting an opportunity to speak with the woman. Natalie observed them quietly, hugging the doll as she looked back at Sara. "I already talked to her." She said indignantly. "I don't know him." She pouted.

"I know." Sara said. "But I do. He is my friend Natalie and he wants to help us catch the friend who did all of these bad things…he wants to help you keep your doll. Keep your friend from coming back here ever and hurting you."

"Or you…"

Sara nodded. "Yes…" She glanced at Greg and before once again taking Natalie's hand. "One of our friends was killed and we think that your friend may have done it, but we need your help to be sure that we are thinking of the right person." She studied Natalie's face, seeing the fright in her eyes. "Please…I promise that if you start to get upset I will make them leave…They will probably have to ask you questions, but if you get scared or anything I want you to tell me and I will make them stop. I promise." Sara knew that Natalie did not like questions and that asking her too many would set her off into a spiral of panic and anxiety causing her to shut down mentally. She was determined to not allow that to happen to her.

Natalie looked back at the door, observing Greg. He looked nice and he had pretty hair; he smiled at her as she looked at him, causing her to quickly look away and hang her head. She was scared, she didn't want to make her friend mad; didn't want him to take her doll and scream at her. Sara had told her that if she kicked and screamed, that he would run and he did. He had run really fast and he did not come back. Sara said she'd get her doll clothes, and she did…Sara didn't lie. Natalie shook her head as if confirming her own private conversation; it was a fact…Sara didn't lie. "Okay." She said quietly as she looked up at Sara. "But if they are mean I want them to leave."

Sara squeezed her hand before motioning to Greg and Sofia to enter the room. "If they are mean, I will make them walk home." She told Natalie, making her smile again.

* * *

David sat in his cell, angrily glaring at the floor. During the ride to the station, Jim had read him his Miranda Rights, making sure to take his time and draw out the memorized statement as long as he possibly could. 

'_You don't have to talk so slowly, I know the saying as well as you do' David had snapped_

'_Oh, no.' Brass said with a gleam in his eyes. 'I want to make sure that we do everything by the book, David...I don't want to leave anything out this time.' He gave him a mocking grin. 'Oh, damn...now I need to start all over again...' _

_He had gone into the Miranda speech yet again, starting from the very beginning and David wished he didn't have handcuffs on so that he could personally choke the life out of the man. As Brass recited the rights, the officer sitting next to David began to chuckle and David had thought of ways to remove his gun and blow the guy's brains out._

Sitting in the cell now, he waited for his attorney who had been taking his sweet time in arriving. Personally, David couldn't stand the man; he was an overpaid oaf who treated David like a criminal. But, he was one of the best defense attorneys in Nevada and so David had drained his savings account to pay for him; he just hoped it was worth it.

He had called Henry Atkins after he had been booked, telling him of his recent situation and requesting that he find a way to _'get me the hell out of this'_.

'_I think we may have a little more difficulty getting you off this time' Henry had said. _

'_Why the hell would we?' David had snapped, glaring at Brass who was leaning against the wall watching him the entire time. They couldn't tie him to Judy, his contacts guaranteed him anonymity and there was no physical evidence linking him to the scene. This was all just Gil Grissom's idea of revenge._

'_Natalie Davis gave your name up as an accomplice' Henry said flatly. 'Not only that, but she provided the department with every piece of documentation, map, and plan that you two had drawn up. I have copies of everything...it doesn't look good, David'_

_David had froze, feeling the overwhelming rage that mixed with his already growing panic. How the hell did Natalie get them the documents? There was no way that she would have done what it took to get them the information; no way in hell. 'How did that happen?' He asked Anthony._

'_She handed them over to CSI Sidle' Henry replied simply 'Apparently, they were hidden within some doll she had and she gave everything to them; I may not be able to talk you out of this one'_

_David had lost it, yanking the phone from the wall in a rage and subsequently being tackled to the ground by the guards. _

The doll; the fucking doll.

He didn't know how Sara had done it, didn't know what smooth ploy she had used on Natalie to con her into dismantling the doll to remove the carefully inserted contents. All he knew was that he wished he had finished Sara off when he'd had the chance, he should have made sure he had done the job right the first time instead of being determined to play the game with Gil.

As he sat there now, waiting for his attorney, he could not believe that at one time he had actually thought he loved her; it was laughable really. All the years he spent studying her face, dreaming of her at night, imagining a life with her...how pathetic. He should have just stomped her head into the mud as she lay under that car; if only Natalie wouldn't have stopped him from doing just that none of this would be happening.

And Grissom. He couldn't believe that he had actually looked up to him, that he had actually wanted to be like him, had wanted to win Grissom's approval. He had spent so much time doing everything he could think of to just get a little praise out of the man and for what? To end up rotting in some jail cell because he had been pushed over the edge by the very man he had spent so many years admiring?

"_Come on, David" He told himself "Snap out of it, man...you're too smart for this."_

As he heard the familiar footsteps of his attorney approach his cell, David couldn't help but smile. He had a degree in criminology and he knew almost every way that criminals had to get out of almost any situation and he was, after all, a criminal.

By the time that Anthony Jones reached his cell, David Hodges was laughing.

* * *

Judy's memorial service took place a week after David's arrest. Although the department was still searching for evidence linking David and his accomplices to her death, they knew that Judy's family needed to lay her to rest. 

The service took place in her hometown and Ecklie had made arrangements to allow the entire staff to attend the service; Sara felt it was probably the most human thing he had ever done. The day was beautiful and sunny and Judy's family had welcomed her friends and co-workers with open arms and tears.

Each of them took their turns in speaking of Judy and Greg had had a particularly difficult time in speaking of his many memories of her; they had been close and he missed her tremendously.

For their part, the CSI team could not help but feel responsible for the family's loss. It was, after all, due to a vendetta against them that lead to Judy's death; she had been an innocent victim to a deadly game that didn't involve her. The family, and in particular Judy's parents, had not held any of them responsible, but the weight of the knowledge was heavy on the service.

As Sara sat holding Gil's hand during the proceedings, she wondered if any of this would have happened if they had not become romantically involved. She didn't know the answer to that and she may never know the answer, but she knew sitting there next to him as he grasped her hand, that she was not going to let go.

* * *

One thing about cascading events is that once they start it is hard to stop them. For Gil, the pummeling cascade of events in his life had continued to hammer down on him in unrelenting blows; he just hoped that his meeting with the lab director would slow the punches somewhat. 

He had sat out in the hallway with Sara next to him, holding her hand as though she could pull him out of the very mud he was drowning in. When they called him into the room, he had squeezed Sara's hand one final time before following Jim Brass behind the closed door. Somehow he felt as though he were walking into his own death sentence.

Sheriff Mobley had reviewed his case, discussing his recent behaviors and his disciplinary issues. Gil was privately relieved that Ecklie was not present and even more pleasantly relieved to hear that Ecklie had been personally _'uninvited' _to attend by the Lab Director himself.

"Dr. Grissom," Andrew Jones commented "It is difficult for us to sit here and judge you for your actions given the recent events of the crime lab." He removed his glasses to lean his elbows on the table to look at Gil. "The death of Judy Tremont was a horrible blow to all of us and the events surrounding her death make it even more difficult to conceive...These events also make it increasingly difficult to hold you fully responsible for your actions over the last few months." He shifted slightly, still holding Gil's attention. "It is obvious that you were acting as a direct result of the incredible duress that you were under and the lab would like to apologize for our lack of support during that time." He shuffled some papers, reviewing a few notes before continuing. "You do need to understand, Dr. Grissom, that we are in no way excusing your actions and are not fully relieving you of any responsibility you have regarding those actions."

Gil nodded. "Yes, Sir...I understand." He felt somewhat numb, not really sure what was going on and what was about to happen. Did this mean he got his job back?

Sheriff Mobley waited until the lab director was done speaking before taking over. "Gil, this panel's unanimous decision is to reinstate your position within the laboratory."

Gil blinked, taken aback slightly. He opened his mouth to speak, but Andrew Jones held his hand up. "We do have a few stipulations." He said, noting the confused look on Gil's face. "Condition One: You cannot work with CSI Sidle as a direct report. You have been in violation of laboratory policy since the time you commenced your relationship and we cannot allow this to continue." He saw the look in Gil's eyes and went on to explain. "Beginning on the 12th of this month, Catherine Willows and her team will be moved to the day side shift and CSI Sidle will be joining them as a charge of CSI Willows. You will move your team to the swing shift schedule effective the 15th and you will keep all of your current team with the edition of CSI Brown, who will change places with Sidle."

Gil had his fingers together on the table and cocked his head slightly as he pondered this scenario. "Have you ran any of this by the others?"

Sheriff Mobley shook his head. "Not yet." He replied. "We wanted to settle with you before finalizing the schedules. But, I am sure that Catherine will be more than pleased with her schedule change, as she has wanted the day side supervisor position for many years."

Gil nodded. "So...that's it?" He asked with disbelief.

Andrew smiled. "Well, no." He said. "Remember, there are stipulations. Condition two is that you will continue with the anger management and counseling sessions for a time of six months. We need to insure that your actions will not repeat themselves and want to make sure that you are given every opportunity to explore your behaviors."

Gil nodded slowly; he was less than thrilled at the prospect of continuing with counseling for six months. However, if that is what it took to get his job back and keep it, then he would more than gladly attend sessions. "Well, that sounds more than reasonable." He told them after a pause. "What about Conrad Ecklie? I am sure he will be less than pleased with this arrangement."

Sheriff Mobley sighed gravelly. "Conrad Ecklie is in no way involved in this decision." He informed Gil. "He tends to let his personal opinions of individuals cloud his ability to make reasonable, fair decisions. He is aware of the transactions, but is not a part of the process in any way."

Again, Gil nodded. "Well," He began slowly. "I feel that I owe you all an apology. I feel that I have done the laboratory a disservice and for that I am sorry." He took a deep breath becoming uncomfortable. "I am not very good at this sort of thing….but, I would like to thank you for giving me the opportunity to prove myself to this department."

Undersheriff McKeen smiled at him with a nod and speaking for the first time since greeting Gil he said, "Your history here is proof enough, Gil. None of us in this room are overly concerned about your future performance; yet, we have to establish some form of disciplinary action and this seemed to be the least imposing."

"One more thing," Andrew said seriously. "Watch your back, keep your nose clean because you will have a lot of people watching you...closely."

Again, Gil nodded as the others stood up. He stood to join them, shaking the hands of the men across the table before he and Jim following Undersheriff McKeen from the room. As they opened the door to the hallway, Gil found Sara anxiously waiting for him surrounded by Warrick, Nick, Greg and Catherine.

"Well," McKeen said as he surveyed the room. "It looks like you have quite a support group." He nodded to Catherine and the others as he extended his hand to Sara. "CSI Sidle, it is nice to have you back in action." He leaned in and kissed her cheek in greeting. "Keep this guy out of trouble for me, will you?" He whispered in her ear before nodding at the others again. "And Gil," He called as he walked back into the room they had vacated. "You should take all these guys out to lunch and fill them in on the changes that are going to be happening around here." He winked at Catherine before closing the door behind him.

Catherine looked at Gil, who stood loosely holding Sara's hand. "Changes?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, replying with a grin. "There are to be a few." He told her, glancing at them all. "For one, my team and I will be taking over the swing shift position."

Silence. Warrick looked at Catherine, who looked at Nick. "Soooo..." She began slowly. "You're coming back to work then?"

He nodded. "Yes, I am Catherine." He felt Sara squeeze his hand in response and the small gesture of happiness made him smile.

"But..." Greg began. "Where is Catherine going?"

"Ah," Gil said raising his eyebrow at Catherine. "And that is the best part." He nodded towards the exit, "Shall we?" He headed towards the door, Jim and Sara close behind him as the others stood silently a moment.

Sara looked behind her. "Come on guys," She goaded. "Free food? Free gossip?"

Greg suddenly sprinted towards them. "I'm driving."

"I don't think so." Warrick replied as he caught up with Greg. "You drive like a girl."

"Hey!" Catherine called as she yanked the keys out of Nick's hand. "I'm a girl."

Nick put his arms out in a questioning gesture. "How come I never drive?"

"Because we've all ridden with you." Warrick commented as they all stepped onto the elevator.

Gil smiled at them as he pushed the garage button on the elevator, feeling the weight of the world dissolving from his shoulders as the doors closed, leaving the past behind him.

* * *

The sound of the alarm clock awoke her and she reached a weary arm out to silence the annoyance. She felt Gil shuffle next to her, his strong arms wrapping around her as he pulled her close. "Ten more minutes." He breathed into her hair. "Just stay here with me for ten more minutes." 

Sara snuggled closer to him, running a hand over the smooth skin of his arm. It had been two months since the switch over at the lab and they had adjusted well to their new schedules. It took some adaptation, especially since they realized that their time together had been dramatically reduced but they had managed to fall into the routine as if it were all they had ever known. Catherine was very mindful of giving Sara days off when Gil had time off, yet with the busy crime lab activity, they managed only one day per month together on average. Other than that, they would see each other at the lab during shift change or when their shifts overlapped and met up regularly for lunch or dinner when their schedules allowed. They continued to keep their personal life completely separate from work and treated each other as co-workers rather than lovers while on the job and as lovers and not co-workers while at home.

Sara lifted Gil's hand to her mouth and kissed it gently. "I have to go." She told him softly as she untangled herself from his embrace.

"Meet me for lunch?" He asked her as she wrapped her robe around herself, bending to pat Bruno on top of his sleepy head.

She smiled down at him. "I can try."

"I'll be at the courthouse at 1:30." He yawned as he burrowed down against her pillow. "Inquest...you'll be there around then, wont you?"

She thought for a moment; today was her day to sit through the jury trial and discuss some evidence. She hated doing that, but she lost the bet to Nick; she always lost to him. She secretly thought he had the game rigged or he was paying Catherine to let him slide. Either way, she had to testify. She nodded down at Gil, leaning a knee on the bed to bend down and kiss him softly behind the ear. "I'll see you there." She murmured with another soft kiss before heading to the shower, leaving Gil to fall back to sleep with Bruno lying across his feet.

* * *

Judges. David hated them. They were always so smug and sat up there on their bench, showing the world that they were better than everyone else was. Every judge in Vegas had a vendetta against him and David knew that. Oh, of course his attorney said it wasn't true but David knew it was. When he had managed to get the half a million dollar bail money from his grandmother, the judge had ordered him to house arrest, going so far as to monitor David's phone calls. Wasn't that against the law? Not that David had anyone to call, anyway. He spent his time researching and getting books and information delivered to his home by the few contacts he still had left. 

He had thrown a fit and demanded that they file for a Change of Venue, moving his entire case to another county. Henry had grumbled, telling David he was being impossible and David had threatened to fire the man. Reluctantly, Henry had conceded, secretly jacking his hourly rate up substantially to make up for having to deal with the man. He knew that every defense attorney was supposed to believe that his or her client was innocent, but he had a difficult time believing that David Hodges was innocent of anything other than stupidity.

They sat in the waiting room of the courthouse, waiting for their case to be called. David had paced relentlessly, pounding the floor of the tiny room with his feet as he fumed. He would angrily glare at the guard in the room, showing his absolute indignation for the individual. David had insisted on being there for the short hearing even though he did not need to be and Henry could not figure out why. He wasn't needed or wanted and his time here was just a waste; it would make no difference to the outcome of the proceeding. For the first half hour, he had paced, glaring down the hallway occasionally as if waiting for someone to show up. He sat now next to Henry, his head hanging as he looked at the floor. '_Pouting,'_ Henry thought. _'The man is pouting.'_

A voice in the hallway suddenly made David sit upright, his face swiftly becoming intense. Henry looked up and saw Sara Sidle chatting with one of the security guards; she had just exited the courtroom that they would be entering when the current case vacated. She had not yet seen David and Henry suddenly felt a rush of panic; this was totally unorthodox. The fact that David was in court the same day as Sara Sidle was something that Henry had not expected; he had checked the calendar diligently and had not seen her name as a witness or participant in any case. He knew that Nick Stokes was set to testify in a murder trial, but had not seen Sara Sidle's name anywhere on the roster. He silently pleaded with Sara not to turn around.

He quickly put a hand on David's shoulder. "Just take it easy and don't say anything." He whispered harshly.

David smirked, his eyes still glued to the woman in the hallway. "Don't worry, _Henry_." He seethed. "I wouldn't waste by breath."

Sara was laughing, the security guard patting her shoulder as they shared a secret joke. Without turning towards the waiting room, she waved a short goodbye to the guard before heading down the hallway and out of site.

Henry sighed; that was close...way too close. Next to him, David began to chuckle as he looked back down at the floor and Henry had wanted to ask him what was so funny when the jury from the courtroom was led out, interrupting his thoughts.

As they entered the courtroom for the venue hearing, David was smiling. Today was turning out better than he had hoped.

* * *

Gil exited the inquest, relieved that it had only taken an hour. He walked down the hallway, searching the faces for a glimpse of Sara. He had awoken early that morning after she had left and had headed downtown to do some shopping. It was nearly Christmas and he had been hunting for over a month for a specific item; as he searched for Sara, he had to fight the urge to tell her what he had found. 

Finally, he spotted her and she caught his eye, breaking out into a huge smile as she came to great him. "Hey." She smiled as he leaned in to kiss her softly.

"Hey, yourself." He replied. "How was your trial?"

"Ugh," She replied as they turned to head out the door, his arm wrapped loosely around her waist. "Nick owes me big time for this; I don't see how attorneys and judges can handle this place."

He smiled. "I hear that's why they get paid the big bucks." He replied. "The money makes the headache easier to swallow."

"I have…" Sara began, looking at her watch. "About an hour before I have to meet Cath at a scene _and_ I am starving."

"Well," he said as he pushed the exit door open. "We'll eat at Linguini's then."

They had just reached the bottom of the stairs when Gil caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. By the time that he could respond, the cascading flow of events had already begun and he was powerless to stop them.

_Five minutes earlier_

David rushed down the hallway with his attorney and a uniformed officer close in tow. His Change of Venue had been denied for adequate cause (apparently being hated by the judges didn't count as adequate cause) and they had set a date for the trial. All of this was inconsequential as far as David was concerned; he had much bigger fish to fry at the moment.

He stopped at the men's room, pushing the door open as the officer followed him in. David stopped abruptly, turning so quickly that the officer nearly collided with him. "Do you plan on holding it for me, also?" He snapped at the man, who only scowled back down at him.

Passing by several empty stalls, David entered the last one and closed the door behind him. As he began to relieve himself, he searched the hanging roll holder for the item his contact had left. It had cost him nearly twenty-five grand for this delivery and he was thankful for his granny's large bank account; he had nearly used it all up. What would she know? She was old and due to kick over any time soon.

Carefully and quietly, he removed the gun from the holder, putting it inside the interior pocket of his jacket. He had worn an extra large jacket today and made sure that the gun was not detectible from the outside. No one in the court system ever thought that someone would want to bring a gun _out_ of the courthouse. His contact had simply entered the courthouse, going straight to the bathroom that was less than 10 feet from the metal detector and left the gun unnoticed. Brilliant.

They exited the restroom and turned towards the exit, David being ever vigilant for any sign of Gil Grissom. He had known from his contact that Gil would be participating in an inquest that day and had planned this moment repeatedly; now all he needed was his opportunity. As they stood on the front stairs waiting for the officer to pull the car around, David felt the knots of anxiety tightening in his gut. He was running out of time and the clock was ticking way too fast.

As if on cue, the courthouse doors opened and there they were: Gil and Sara, joined at the hip. David's plan suddenly changed as he pushed Henry out of the way, reaching out for Sara just as the couple reached the bottom stair. She had been looking at Gil and did not see David coming. As he grabbed her arm, she was taken by surprise, letting out a short cry of shock as she fell against him, his nails scraping against her bare arm.

Backing away from the stairs, he yanked Sara along with him, his arm gripping her roughly around the shoulders as he removed the gun from his pocket. He saw his attorney rush toward him and he pressed the gun against Sara's temple, causing her to gasp slightly as Henry froze in place. He saw the panic on Gil's face and smirked at him. "Ahhh," He called out. "And that picture would be worth so many words...Gil Grissom scared. "

David thought that the situation couldn't have been more primo if he'd have planned it for months; he came here for Gil, but now he could make the man beg before he killed him. _Perfect_

"David," Henry yelled. "_What are you doing?_"

David kept his eyes locked on Gil; he could feel Sara trembling under his touch and the feeling excited him. "Ask the man who ruined my life." He said levelly. "Ask him what sacrifice he would make...how _important_ his own life is right now."

"David..." Gil said as he stepped slowly off of the last stair. "Please...just let go of Sara..."

"STOP!" David suddenly screamed as he yanked Sara further away. "_You're not going to ruin this! You will not win this game! This is MY game, you are not going to ruin it!"_

Behind Gil, he heard footsteps as two officers rushed from the courthouse, stopping as they saw the sight in front of them. "We have a hostage situation." Gil heard one of them say into their radio. "We need back up at the Superior court immediately."

The officers came down next to him and one of them drew his gun, leveling it towards David. "Drop your weapon." He ordered.

David shoved the barrel of the pistol harshly against Sara's temple and she let out a cry of pain. "I'll shoot her!" He yelled in response. "_I swear to God I'll blow her brains all over this sidewalk if you don't put that thing down_!"

Gil turned suddenly towards the officer, nearly reaching out to knock the weapon away. "Put it down!" He ordered. "For God's sake...put it down!" The officer reluctantly complied, bellowing into his radio for back up to put a rush on things. Gil looked into Sara's eyes, seeing the tears that were forming and knew that he had to do whatever it took to help her.

"David," Henry instructed. "You need to stop this! You still have a chance of getting a good deal of things...don't blow it by doing something irrational..."

"Irrational?" David responded. "For the first time I am thinking rationally."

"No, you're not." Gil said calmly, trying desperately to keep the fear from showing in his voice. In his mind, his reoccurring nightmare played vividly and he was watching it unfold in front of his eyes; only this time it was not just a dream. "Just let Sara go..."

Sara was shaking. She searched Gil's face, pleading him silently to help her. She could see that he was terrified and that made the panic in her throat tighten even more. "Hodges," She breathed. "Please don't do this..."

"SHUT UP!" David yelled at her, giving her a rough shake.

"David, please..." Gil begged, his arms up in a look of surrender. "Just let Sara go...she has nothing to do with this, just let her go."

"SHE HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THIS!!" David suddenly screamed, yanking Sara back roughly, causing her to let out a short cry of pain. "You involved her, you brought her into this!" He pressed the gun harshly against Sara's temple and she began to cry, hanging onto his one arm tightly. "WHY COULDN'T YOU LEAVE HER ALONE? I LOVED HER! DON'T YOU KNOW I LOVED HER!"

Gil froze; he could feel his heart pounding violently against the walls of his chest. "David, please..." He took another step towards him.

"DON'T YOU MOVE!!" He screamed, taking the gun away from Sara's temple to momentarily point it at Gil. "You had everything!! EVERYTHING!! I had nothing! I just tried to be like you, to make you proud of me!! And then you took her too and I hated you. I HATE YOU!!" He put the gun back on her temple, pushing it roughly against her delicate skin.

"Please, David..." Sara cried. "Please don't do this...please..." She was staring at Gil, her eyes full of fright, begging him to help her.

"I need him to bleed, like I bled." David seethed loudly into Sara's ear. "Only I didn't bleed blood...noooo...I bled my soul...I bled my heart, because he had everything I ever wanted and then he took you, too...and I want him to feel how I felt when I lost you."

Sirens sounded around them as police cruisers skidded to a stop in front of the courthouse. Gil caught a glimpse of Jim rushing from one of the vehicles and closed his eyes only momentarily, praying that it was not too late.

Officers exited their cars, weapons drawn as the hostage negotiator came slowly towards the scene with Jim at his side.

"Hey, Hodges..." The man said as he stood a distance away. "Why don't you let her go and we can talk about this?"

"No." He said firmly, his gaze locked on Gil's face. "Don't you get it? This is about her, this has always been about her..." He grinned evilly at Gil. "Now I want you to feel it..." He seethed. "And I don't ever want you forget...what it feels like to lose everything..."

Gil saw David tighten his grip on the trigger and without thinking he was moving, rushing towards the man rapidly. As if in slow motion, David suddenly pointed the gun at Gil as his finger clasped down on the trigger, pulling it tight. Sara screamed as gunfire rang out around her, watching in horror as Gil's body snapped back and he fell towards the ground. At virtually the same instant, a bullet hit David in the chest, sending him reeling as he released his grip on Sara. She rushed forward, falling violently to her knees as she crawled to Gil's body at the foot of the stairs.

David stood only a moment, blood on his lips as his eyes rolled up towards the sky before he fell to his knees, hitting the ground face first as the life left his body.

Sara reached out for Gil, picking his head up as she sobbed. "Griss?" She sobbed, seeing the blood that drenched his body. "Baby, please..."

His eyes were open and he looked up at her, lifting a hand to her cheek. "I thought he was going to kill you, Honey." He said weakly. "Are you alright?"

Sara nodded as she sobbed, kissing the palm of his hand. Next to her, Jim kneeled down and looked down at Gil. "Hey, Buddy." He said. "You sure know how to piss someone off, y'know?"

"It's just a graze." Gil told him. "My shoulder...he just nicked me."

Jim checked his friend over; it looked like a lot more than a graze. He removed his jacket and placed it over the wound, pressing down to stop the bleeding. Sara looked over at him, her brown eyes asking him so many questions; he nodded at her as he looked back down at Gil.

Gil tried focusing on Sara, but she was becoming blurry and he knew that he would be losing consciousness. "Sara..." He whispered, his shaking hand once again reaching for her cheek. "You're okay..."

"Yes." She cried. "I'm okay, Griss..."

"He didn't hurt you?"

"Nooo..." She breathed as she saw his eyes begin to cloud over.

"Sara..." He breathed softly. "I love you..."

Sara held his hand against her lips, feeling the coldness of his skin against them. "I love you, too, baby... Please hang on..." She watched as his eyes fluttered and then closed, his hand becoming limp in hers and she held it tightly as she wept.

**Epilogue??**


	27. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**Again, I own nothing but an imagination. Thanks to everyone for reading and for the reviews. Finally, The End!**

* * *

It had been a long time since Sara had rocked herself to sleep. Back and forth, back and forth, slow and steady as if keeping rhythm with the clock that counted away the seconds it took for a heart to break. 

As a child she would sit like this often, slowly rocking herself as her parents fought in the next room, counting the screams and the hits and the tears. She would cry, silently, the tears sliding down her bruised face as she willed herself into a shell where she would stay holed up forever, never to emerge until the warmth of the sun would sooth her and draw her into the light.

Sara sat on their bed, the pillow drawn up against her chest as she hugged it against her, rocking slowly as she cried into its soft fabric. She wanted to crawl back into the shell, to let its hard exterior surround her, closing her in until everything else disappeared, leaving only the shadow of what once was a woman. No one could hear her, no one would know and so she cried and rocked for what seemed like hours before her eyes closed and she was asleep.

* * *

As a child, Sara had never experienced a single happy Christmas; the two just never seemed to go together. Christmas and fighting, Christmas and emergency rooms, or Christmas and beating...just never Christmas and happy. Only the really lucky kids ever got presents; kids like Sara just got black eyes and broken promises. 

As she opened her eyes that Christmas, Sara almost wished that she had had a few broken bones and a black eye or two; it would hurt far less than what she was feeling right then.

Gil had been in the hospital for over a week and had not opened his eyes. The monitors and pumps and machines all made funny noises but he never moved a muscle. She knew he could hear her, that he could some how sense her presence; but she just wanted him to wake up. She often wondered if he had felt this way when she was in the hospital. Did he sit and watch her sleep? Did he hold her hand and count all of the tiny lines on her palm? Did he cry? Sara had done all of those things, time and time again.

She had read him books and articles and even watched _"It's a Wonderful Life" _with him on Christmas Eve (not that he was really watching it), she commented on everything and talked along with the characters. It had been a tradition for them since they became a couple; every Christmas Eve they would watch the show, acting out the scenes as they ate popcorn and drank cocoa made using Gil's mother's "secret recipe".

With Gil she had had the happiest Christmases of her life.

She just wasn't ready to say goodbye yet and she wasn't going to let him say it either.

She spent all of Christmas with him at the hospital, turning down their friends' invites to dinner. She talked to him about the weather, how it seemed really cold for Vegas and how Greg's family had ten inches of snow back home. She talked about skiing in the snow, wondering if he had ever skied and if he had, did he ever fall down? She told him about surfing and how he should try it sometime because he would look really good on a board. She told him about Nick's parents' visit for Christmas and how Jillian had made them a beautiful quilt for their bed and she told him that Bruno ate his Christmas present from her so he would have to wait until his replacement present came now before he could open it. She did not tell him how she had cried because of it.

She never talked about what he wouldn't do or couldn't do and she never mentioned that maybe, just maybe, he may never do anything again.

* * *

"_Why don't you just get the little sports coupe?" She had asked him as they stood in the car lot shopping for his replacement vehicle._

_He looked at her, puzzled. "Why would I want a little sports coupe?"_

_Duh. "Because its COOL." She replied with a roll of her eyes._

"_I don't want something cool," He had responded with mock sarcasm. "I want something practical."_

"_Practical? Why would you want something practical?"_

_He had picked out a nice 4-door Audi, determined that he wanted a black one with leather and all of the amenities and plenty of room in the backseat. He had looked at her, a small grin at the corner of his mouth. "Because," He replied with a tilt of his head. "You never know when we'll…" He faltered, shrugging a little. "…Need more room…"_

__

She had stared at him a moment, seeing the coy smile on his lips, the slight gleam in his eyes as he opened the door to the car to peer inside. That was the first indication she had that he had been thinking of how their future would be; and who might be in it.

* * *

He woke up two days before New Year's Eve, looking around the room as though he had forgotten where he put something very important. His eyes landed on Sara and he had stared at her for a very long time, no words coming from his mouth as she cried. She had kissed him ever so softly. First his temple, then his nose and finally his mouth; pressing gently as she held her lips against his. 

He was quiet for a very long time as she held his hand and watched his face. Finally, after observing her steadfastly with dark blue eyes he whispered, "Hi, Honey."

* * *

"_This place is kind of small." He said simply, suddenly, as he stood in the middle of the living room._

_Sara looked up from the book she was reading, glanced around the room, and looked back up at him. "Small?" She asked. They had a large bedroom, a nice bath, a big office, the kitchen with the small dining room and a lovely deck. What did he mean by small?_

_He nodded, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweat pants as he glanced around. "Not much of a yard, either."_

_Sara paused. "Oookaaayyy…" She said, going back to her book._

"_You ever think we should move?" He asked thoughtfully, looking at her with a curious expression. _

"_Why would we ever want to move?" She asked as she looked back at him. "This place is great for the two of us…and Bruno…"_

"_Because someday," He said with a nod. "There may be more than just us."_

__

That was her second indication.

* * *

He walked again the first time on New Year's Eve. He was shaky and uncertain, seeming to have forgotten how to make his legs work. Forward, backward, left right; why was it so difficult? His chest felt like someone was burning him with a torch and his arms shook as he held on to the bar to pull himself up. 

Before he had walked all the way around the 5th floor of the hospital, he was utterly exhausted. It took every inch of will power he had to keep moving forward and it was the presence walking next to him, offering her strength that kept him going. She helped him back to his room and into bed, holding him patiently as he waited for the overwhelming pain to subside before leaning back against the pillows to close his eyes; the image of her face playing softly against the inside of his eyelids.

* * *

He returned to work two months after the incident, feeling stronger than he had ever felt before. Sara had taken up jogging with Bruno and he had joined her several mornings as she headed out before work. He found that he enjoyed this time, the crisp early morning air, the splay of the dawn on the horizon, and the sound of their footfalls as they jogged along side-by-side. What he enjoyed the most was the quiet bond they shared as they jogged and the therapeutic feeling of the moment. 

He stood one morning just out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, and stared at himself in the mirror. The scar was fading slightly, but he hated the thing. Of everything, he had always thought that he'd had a pretty nice chest for an old guy and now even that was gone. As he stood contemplating the reality of plastic surgery, Sara came into the room, standing slightly behind him to look into the mirror with him.

As his eyes caught hers she smiled at him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his shoulder. "Hey, Sexy..." She murmured as she rubbed her hands up his chest.

He stared with a sigh. "I hate this thing." He commented.

Sara looked into the mirror with him, running her hand softly over the scar. "It is fading." She told him with another soft kiss. "In another year, it won't hardly be noticeable at all."

Still staring. "I'm getting old."

She smiled and shook her head. Another soft kiss played across his skin and he felt a shudder run through him. "_I_...think you are incredibly sexy." Another kiss. Her hands began exploring his chest, running sensually along his skin.

"I have to go to work." He tried, feeling the powerful effects of her movements on his body.

A slight nibble on his shoulder, making him shudder. "I know..." She moved her hands down, pushing them beneath the towel to drop it to the floor. "But...if you want me to let you go..." More kisses as her hands delved further. "...You cannot run around in a towel...it creates too much diversion..."

He forgot all about the scar and his age. Somehow, when Sara touched him, she had the power to make him forget everything else.

* * *

_They walked hand and hand down the strip, watching the lights and the tourists as they made their way out of the casinos. They had seen a show at the Cirque de Soleil and were heading to dinner at another casino, both absorbed in the hustle and bustle of Vegas activity. _

"_How many of these people do you think will make it home alive tonight?" Sara asked as she watched the crowd with intense interest. _

_He paused to look around them. "How many do you think will not?"_

"_Four." She replied. "It seems like there is always four...you think we'll get a call?"_

"_Don't we always?" _

_She stopped, looking into a window of a small store. "Huh..." She said. "Buy a Hershey's pack and get a 12 oz Margarita for free." She shrugged. "Okay...maybe five..."_

_They walked slightly further and Sara began to giggle. "ANOTHER Chapel?" She said in disbelief. "How many do we need on the strip?" She looked over at him. "Why would anyone serious about their future go to Vegas, get drunk and get married?"_

"_Sounds like a recipe for murder." He commented. _

"_It HAS been a recipe for murder." _

_He was quiet for awhile as they walked, deep in thought. Finally, he glanced at her quickly. "Do you think someone has to be serious about their future to get married?"_

"_Well," She said as she picked up a piece of paper off the ground, observed it, and tossed it in the trash on the way by. "I think you should be sober."_

_He smiled. "Definitely a good start." He paused, hesitating. "But, that is not what I asked." She looked over at him, furrowing her eyebrows. "Do you have to be SERIOUS...about your future to get married?"_

_She stopped, studying him before replying. "I think so...what do you think?"_

_They had arrived at the restaurant and he opened the door for her, shrugging nonchalantly as he motioned her inside. "I think you should be serious about the person you are marrying." _

_And that, Sara realized, was her third indication._

* * *

Gil sat on the couch, a forensics magazine in his hand as he absently rubbed the bottom of Sara's feet as they lay in his lap. Soft music played in the background, one of Sara's favorite CD's, as they enjoyed a rare day off together. Bruno lay on his back in the middle of the living room, feet pointing up as he attempted to chew a rawhide bone upside down. _'He really is a weird dog'_ Gil thought. 

He looked over at Sara, who lay with her head against the opposite side of the couch, absorbed in a book about a woman who spent her life doing search and rescue. At one point she had put the book down to proclaim that she was going to quit CSI and train Bruno to be a search dog. Gil had nodded at the dog, telling her that she may want to reconsider, but she was already reabsorbed in her novel.

As he watched Sara, he thought about all of the things that they had been through since he had first laid eyes on her nearly 11 years before. They could begin writing it all down, filling page upon page, novel after novel and still not have enough room to write it all. He wondered what his life would have been like without her and what she would have become without him. In the end he knew that without her, he was lost just as he knew that without him, she was empty.

Despite everything, it was moments such as this that made it all worth it.

He gently lifted her feet from his lap and she glanced up at him, a half smile playing across her lips as he stood up. He felt his heart skip a few times as a result and knew that everything he was doing was right. He disappeared into the study, rummaging around a few minutes before re-emerging, his face looking somewhat ashen and apprehensive.

Approaching Sara, he sat slowly on the edge of the couch next to her, causing her to lower the book to look up at him.

'_Breathe, Gil, breathe' _He told himself as he took a deep breath. "Sara..." He began, feeling his stomach begin to fill with nerves. He reached out and took her hand as she sat up slightly, putting the book in her lap. "Uhm...I was going to wait...until tonight at dinner...but..." he faltered. _'Damn it! Don't blow this' _He looked down at her hand in his and was again amazed at how well it fit within his palm; how well _she_ fit within his heart. Looking up, he saw her beautiful brown eyes and tried again. "I am actually quite late with this. I had planned it for Christmas."

He saw the look on her face as she went to speak, but he put a finger against her mouth to stop her. "Do you remember when we thought you were pregnant?" He asked quietly.

Eyebrows furrowed for a moment, she nodded. "Of course..."

"Well..." he breathed, glancing down again before looking back to her. "I have never told you this, and I don't know why...but..." He shrugged, trying desperately to put his thoughts to words. "I have never in my life felt as close to anyone as I did to you then...and...I knew that..._right then_...that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you..."

Sara stared at him, her eyes glistening as he spoke. He stared into them and could see the love she felt and so he pushed on. "It was as though everything made sense at that moment; everything I needed to do, everything I had ever wanted and everything I would ever need was right there at that moment." He squeezed her hand, looking down at it again before nearly whispering, "Everything I ever needed was you...I have never loved anyone in my life, Sara, the way that I love you...I have never had anyone in my life love me the way that you do..." He stopped again, trying hard to swallow the lump in his throat. "It's just taken me a really long time to do anything about it." He felt his cheeks flushing and could feel his heart thumping. God, he hoped she said yes.

She had tears in her eyes as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the small case that he had purchased so many months before. Realizing he was doing it all wrong, he suddenly dropped to the floor in front of her and a tear rolled down her cheek. "Sara..." He said as he opened the case, knowing he was fumbling and definitely not the smooth romantic like on TV. "Would you marry me?"

Silence. Complete, utter silence. He could have sworn that his heart stopped beating completely as Sara stared at the ring in his hand and back up to his face, her mouth open slightly as she tried to absorb the situation. _'SHIT!'_ He thought desperately. _'You blew it! Say something...SAY something!"_

"Uh..." He stuttered. "I know it isn't huge and shiny and loaded with diamonds, but I thought that, well...well...this ring was _you_, Sara...I know you don't like big rings and..."

Before he could finish, she suddenly leaned forward and grabbed the back of his head to pull him to her as she kissed him passionately, almost desperately. Her hands cupped his face as they kissed and he continued holding the ring out, feeling the ignition of tiny explosions across the surface of his skin. She pulled back, her face a mere inches from him as she locked eyes with his. "Yes..." She said softly as another tear fell from her eye. "Oh God, Baby...yes..."

He smiled, letting out the air he had been holding for so long. "Yes..." He repeated, pulling back to remove the ring before taking her hand in his. He looked up at her and was lost in her chocolate eyes for a moment before slipping the ring onto her finger.

They both stared down at it in wonder before Sara threw her arms around him again, pulling him down onto her on the couch. She pulled his face to hers, flicking her tongue softy on his lips before plunging in for more. They made love without uttering a word, using physical actions instead to convey the realm of emotions that they felt. They fell together after, wrapped in each others arms as the sun began to set outside their windows.

"I don't think you know how incredibly long I have been waiting for you to ask me." Sara said softly, running a hand through his hair as he lay his head on her shoulder.

He looked up at her smiling and she began playing with the dimple on his chin. "And you have no idea how long I have wanted to ask."

**Fin**


End file.
